


Crash into Me

by l0velyc0mplex



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24173782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l0velyc0mplex/pseuds/l0velyc0mplex
Summary: Roy Mustang has gone years hiding his restrictive eating habits from his subordinates. He's stuck between desperately wanting to tell someone and keeping it to himself. Hughes and Hawkeye want to understand more, but Roy keeps everything close to his chest. Can Hawkeye and Hughes help him even if he won't open up to them?
Comments: 42
Kudos: 50





	1. Routine

**Author's Note:**

> As seen in the tags, this story has to do with eating disorders. Please! Please, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable.

Colonel Roy Mustang always started his day the same way. He'd wake up at four-thirty, work out, and enjoy a cup of coffee as he read the newspaper. He would make his lunch (soup and a salad) and start off for work, which he was to be at seven-thirty.

It took Roy many months to get himself into this routine. He tried pathetically for a while, not able to get himself out of bed so early, but eventually, he found he didn't even need an alarm as he was trying to get into the routine. Starting out, Roy would get up at four-thirty and simply drink coffee as he got ready to get used to being up early, even though he would sit around before leaving with all the extra time. Then, when he got used to waking at four-thirty, he made a work-out routine for himself and he would make his lunch with his extra time before work.

When Roy arrived at work, he would place his lunch in the mini-fridge in the office (courtesy of Havoc), grab a cup of coffee, and get started on the paperwork. Hawkeye was usually in the office before him, sometimes Havoc was too. Today was one of the days they both were there. Before he sat down at his desk though, he made his normal rounds to Hawkeye and Havoc.

"Good morning, Colonel," Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye said. "Remember you have a meeting at 10 o'clock alongside Private Zell with Fuhrer Bradley about the Lior case."

"Yes, I know."

"Morning, sir," Havoc mumbled when Roy looked his way.

"Morning, Havoc." Mustang loomed over Havoc's desk. "Got that file I asked for?"

"Yep." Havoc looked up with his charming, slanted smile, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He lifted up a manila folder for Roy. "Here it is."

"Perfect, thank you."

"Not a problem, sir."

Roy finally sat down at his own desk. It was time to wait for Hughes to barge in and shove photographs of his family in Roy's face. For now, though, Roy sank his teeth into the piles of paperwork he had to do.

Now is usually when Roy's hunger would make itself apparent from not eating breakfast. He typically would feel alright at home with coffee in his stomach, but at the office, the coffee didn't seem to do the job. Roy learned how to ignore his hunger pangs. In fact, they were almost comforting.

Luckily, Hughes came in before Roy could focus too much on how hungry he was.

Or maybe he wasn't so lucky...

"I've got breakfast," he announced, as Fuery came in behind him.

Roy only allowed himself a quick glance at the Lt. Colonel.

Havoc jumped from his seat, "For real? You're the best, Lt. Colonel Hughes."

"Sure I am." Hughes dropped the bag of bagels, as Roy saw when Havoc pulled one out, on Havoc's desk. He walked over to Roy. "Hawkeye? Would you like anything?"

"No, thank you, sir," she replied with a small smile. "I already had breakfast at home."

"Roy?"

Roy flicked his gaze up to Hughes. He leaned over his desk, smiling down at Roy. The colonel made to respond but Hughes beat him to it.

"I know you always only have a cup of coffee in the morning, you want one?"

"I'm busy," Roy mumbled. "Let me alone."

"I could leave one for you?"

"Hughes, I said I'm busy."

There was a brief, awkward pause between the two. Roy again looked up to Hughes to see his eyes wide.

"Okay," he said. "I'll let you be."

Hughes spun on his heels and went back to Havoc. Roy almost wanted to apologize for his cold tone, but when Breda and Falman came in, he decided against it.

Roy allowed his mind to wander about the Lior case his meeting was about. He didn't know much about what happened in Lior, or what Ed did in Lior. Perhaps he could call Edward in for a quick meeting. Most likely not, Roy thought, the kid is never up before noon.

He could feel himself getting anxious for his upcoming meeting. Roy didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the Fuhrer, or General Haruko if he was attending. He didn't usually get anxious about meetings, but something was off-putting about this meeting and Roy couldn't put his finger on it.

Before Hughes left, he went to Roy's desk.

"I thought I told you—"

"To leave you alone, I know," Hughes finished. "But I wanted to let you know we're getting measured for the new uniforms today at eleven instead of ten-thirty."

Roy sucked in a breath. He swallowed and looked to Hughes calmly. "Why are we getting new uniforms?"

"I don't know. Fuhrer Bradley sent out a memo, didn't you get it?"

The colonel looked to his lieutenant, who had her head bowed in her paperwork. He shot her a look, although she wasn't looking. Why hadn't she told him that? It would be odd if it simply slipped her mind. Why didn't she let him know?"

"No," Roy said, still looking at Hawkeye. "I did not."

Hughes glanced at Hawkeye, who finally looked up. She cocked her head in confusion, but Roy made a motion for her to go back to her work.

"Well, I told everyone to leave a bagel for you in case you change your mind."

Roy opened his mouth to spit out a reply but shut it suddenly. It wasn't Hughes he was upset at. "Thank you, Hughes," he said instead.

Hughes gave a smile before turning away from Roy. Roy watched as Hughes left before directing his attention again to Hawkeye. Leaning forward on his desk, he felt warm anger bloom in his breast. Hawkeye was surely aware that he would want to know if he was being measured for a new uniform. Roy didn't make her privy to all of his consciousness of his weight and his body, but she wasn't stupid. She had to know that Roy was overly conscious of his weight, so why didn't she tell him? Didn't she think it was something he would want to know?

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," Roy said and Hawkeye was on her feet instantly. "Come speak to me for a moment."

"Yes, sir," she said and came to his desk. "What do you need to speak with me about?"

"I would like to know why it is that you didn't tell me about the measurements for the new uniforms," Roy said. "You must know that it would be something I'd like to know."

"I realize that, sir, but I also know that you are nervous about your meeting coming up. I didn't think you needed to think about the new uniforms."

"That isn't for you to decide."

"I was only—" Hawkeye cut herself off. She quickly glanced behind her, then leaned down and spoke quietly. "Sir, may we speak outside?"

"No, we may not."

"Sir?"

"That'll be all for now. Next time there's something scheduled, please don't take it upon yourself whether or not to inform me."

"Understood, sir, and I apologize."

Roy nodded, dismissing her. She went back to her desk and Roy averted his eyes, still a little irritated with her. He wished she hadn't avoided telling him, because Roy didn't like being annoyed with her. Moreover, getting measured for a new uniform wasn't something Roy would take lightly. Hawkeye was most certainly aware of that. It was incredibly infuriating that Roy couldn't fully express to her why he was perturbed she hadn't mentioned the measurements.

It was because he knew what he was doing wasn't normal.

Of course, being in the military, Roy was surrounded by men and women who were conscious of their bodies. He found it was more so for their health, rather than being thin. In fact, most men he worked with scrunched their noses at a thin physique. Roy couldn't exactly be sure how the women felt about thinness versus health, but certainly, as women who exerted themselves and needed strength, he could guess how they felt.

Roy had told himself in the beginning that his health was his top priority. Maybe it had been, but it wasn't now. Keeping his weight down was his utmost priority, even if the ways were unhealthy and he could stand to add a few pounds to his frame.

Hawkeye wanting to speak with him outside, privately, made Roy uneasy. It was a confrontation he wasn't ready for yet. She had tried previously, but Roy shot her down. Hawkeye tip-toed around the issue in a very uncharacteristic fashion and Roy managed to make some kind of excuse he knew she didn't believe. That pseudo confrontation was more than he could handle, he couldn't imagine truly getting confronted about his eating habits. He knew it had to come soon, but this was too soon.

Subconsciously, Roy put his hand to his stomach, feeling another small pang of hunger. Other than that small motion, it went ignored. He wanted to at least get his paperwork done before he started panicking about the upcoming meeting or measurements.

Being measured for a new uniform was nerve-wracking, to say at the least. Roy weighed himself every three days, or earlier if he was especially anxious about what it would say. That being true, Roy didn't measure himself frequently. Even the idea of doing so made him incredibly antsy. He knew he was already too wrapped up in the number the scale said, he didn't need the added problem of being hyper-aware of the size of his waist. That was something he preferred to live in ignorance of.

Realistically, Roy knew that no matter the size of his waist he was going to be disappointed. He knew that they would also measure the size of his shoulders, his wingspan, and his height, probably. He desperately didn't need to know those numbers, but at the same time, he found himself overly curious.

Roy's height had always been something he was self-conscious of. He always wished he could be just a tad taller, but there was no fixing that. His other measurements were something he could fix, though, and that's why he didn't want to be conscious of those too. He was already too deep in this.

Perhaps Hawkeye had been correct in not telling Roy about his measurements. He needed to be thinking about Lior, not about his body.

When it was time for Roy's meeting, his lieutenant came to his desk and offered to escort him there. Roy accepted and the two left the office together.

"I wanted to apologize again, sir, for not telling you about being measured for the new uniforms. It wasn't my place to decide whether or not to allow you to know."

"That's right, Lieutenant."

"Although..." Hawkeye started and Roy glanced swiftly towards her. "I do think this is a reasonable time as any to discuss things."

Roy stopped walking, as did Hawkeye after him. "What things?"

"Well, I've been meaning to speak to you about it for a while now. I believe you are..." She trailed off and then said tactfully. "A little too worried about your weight."

"That's not true," Roy said. "Where did you get that from?"

"I only say that because your eating habits worry me, Colonel. You seem overly rigid with what you eat."

"Aren't you?"

Hawkeye seemed surprised by his reply, her eyes widened briefly as her lips parted slightly. Roy looked at her with an opposite expression, his eyes narrowed and his lips in a tight line.

"No. I don't think I am. I allow myself to relax once in a while."

Roy scoffed and began to walk again. "I don't need this, Lieutenant. I have a meeting."

Hawkeye didn't move. "And I make sure to eat enough."

Roy froze. He gave a quick glance back to Hawkeye. "I told you, I have a meeting."

"We'll speak later," Hawkeye said.

"We won't."

The colonel continued to make his way to his meeting as his Lieutenant stood in the hallway. He desperately wanted to look back at her, but he kept his gaze forward and kept walking.

Roy knew he should've conversed with her calmly. By being getting defensive and evasive, he did nothing but raise Hawkeye's suspicions.

That comment had made Roy uneasy. He also didn't like the idea of Hawkeye thinking about his eating habits, much less her being worried about them. He felt bad about making Hawkeye worried and made a note to apologize for his tone, after finding an excuse for his eating habits.

Private Zell was waiting outside the Fuhrer's office for Roy. He checked his watch and then looked up at Roy. Private Zell saluted Roy almost as soon as he saw him, and Roy told him to stand at ease. They spoke quietly about what they figured the meeting was pertaining to before they went in.

"Ready, Private Zell?"

"Yessir."

The two went into the Fuhrer's office and as expected, General Haruko was also present. Unexpected though, was Lieutenant General Grumman, who smiled at Roy and took away a bit of his anxiety. Roy was thankful that there was someone at the meeting he was comfortable with.

Colonel Mustang and Private Zell both saluted before being invited to sit down. Fuhrer sat back, folded his hands together, and sat back.

"Well, men, I'm sure the two of you aren't ignorant of what is happening in Lior."

"The uprisings?"

"Yes, the uprisings." The Fuhrer leaned forward. "Something needs to be done about them. They need to be smothered."

"Colonel Mustang," General Haruko said. "We want to send you and Private Zell, along with 50 men to Lior."

Roy blinked stupidly. "To stop the uprisings? But what do they have to do with us? I don't think Lior's uprisings are our issue."

"That isn't for you to ask, or for you to decide," the Fuhrer said.

"Mustang, we need you to quell the uprisings because Lior doesn't have a military or even MP stationed there," Lt. General Grumman explained. "That's all. We need someone to lead the MP who is going to go there to calm things down. I thought you and Private Zell would be a good fit."

Roy nodded. He glanced sideways at Private Zell who nodded also. He kept his face stoic like Roy himself did, but Roy knew he must be at least a little panicked. This would be his first important mission.

"However," Grumman continued. "we will be conducting physicals to make sure you're healthy enough to go."

"Certainly that's not necessary, sir."

"Again, not for you to decide," Fuhrer Bradley said. He narrowed his eyes at Roy. "Watch yourself, Colonel."

If Roy wasn't uncomfortable before, he sure as hell was now. He sat up straight and tried to keep his face straight; he didn't want to give any reason for Fuhrer Bradley to know that he was nervous. He nodded again.

"We'll conduct the physicals tomorrow," Lt. General Grumman continued. "First thing in the morning report to the medic's office. Once that's finished, we'll have another meeting and discuss Lior further. Understood?"

"Yes," Roy said, then added: "Sir."

Everyone but Roy turned their attention to Private Zell. "Yessir," he said loudly, "you're understood."

"Understand that this will be a big step for you," General Haruko said to Zell. "Be sure to remember that as you carry out this mission with Colonel Mustang."

"Of course, sir."

Fuhrer Bradley took one last look at the two men. "Okay," he said. "That will be all. You two are dismissed."

The pair stood up and saluted their superiors before leaving. Roy allowed Private Zell to exit the room before himself and softly closed the door behind him. Roy let out the breath he was holding and he saw the private do the same.

Roy looked to Private Zell but he didn't return the eye-contact. He was looking everywhere but at Roy.

"Private Zell," Roy said quietly. "Are you alright?"

"Yessir," he murmured. "Of course."

"You can tell me if there's something wrong. In fact, I think you should if we're to be working closely together."

Zell gave Roy a look of uncertainty. He kept his mouth tight shut like a good soldier, which Roy inwardly commended him for. Though, Roy nodded him along, encouraging him to explain what was wrong.

"I'm just unsure if I'm prepared for something like this, sir. I don't know if the Fuhrer was correct in choosing me."

"The Fuhrer?" Roy rose a brow. "He didn't choose you."

"He didn't? I thought that he—"

"I did."

Private Zell's eyes went wide. "You did? Sir, I don't understand why."

Roy smiled. "I heard great things about you," he reached out an arm and put it on Zell's shoulder. "I was only told to pick someone I trust that wasn't directly under me and you came to mind."

"I appreciate that Colonel, but I'm not sure I'm apt."

"I can assure you that you are."

Again, Zell gave that look of uncertainty and Roy gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"We'll talk more tomorrow, okay? Relax and get a good night's sleep."

"Yessir!"

The two parted and Roy began to walk back to his office. Before Roy could even think about his feelings towards the uprising in Lior, the physical he would be doing rolled into his mind. That was almost worse than being measured, but Roy couldn't place why. Roy already knew his weight (140 lbs) so there would be no surprise or disappointment like there would be with measurements.

Roy knew that his weight was low, even if he wasn't underweight because he tried his best to keep it that way. It worried Roy that maybe the doctor conducting the physical would encourage him to put on weight. Roy could almost faint from how irrational he was being; he wanted to keep his weight low and knew there could be a possibility he would be told to get it up and yet he couldn't get it in his head that he needn't this obsession with keeping his weight low.

The office door whined as Roy slowly and awkwardly opened it, almost floating in as his mind was preoccupied. Havoc and Hughes were in the office, talking quietly as Havoc ignored his paperwork.

"Roy?" Hughes looked up at Roy and Havoc turned around to look at him. "You okay?"

"Huh? Yes. I was just thinking about my meeting."

"What about it, Colonel?" Havoc asked. "It was about Lior, right? It was just a briefing about what Fullmetal did over there, wasn't it?"

"That's what I thought it was going to be about," Roy said as he checked his watch. Ten-forty-five. "But there's an uprising there—"

"Which we already knew about," Hughes interrupted.

"I know, but I have to smother it. I tried asking why it was our business, but Bradley got on me about it." Roy fell into the chair at his desk. He put his head in his hands. "Better yet, right after the meeting Zell goes and tells me he doesn't think he's a good fit."

Hughes looked towards Havoc. "Why don't you go take a cigarette break, Havoc?"

Understanding the message, Havoc reached into his drawer and grabbed his lighter and cigarettes. Hughes waited until he left the room to reply to Roy. Quietly, he went to Roy's desk and sat on the edge.

"Roy? Are you up to this?"

"Does it matter if I am?"

"Well—"

"It doesn't! Don't be stupid."

The pair stayed silent as Roy kept his head down. Hughes simply sat with him as Roy sat with his thoughts.

Roy wasn't sure if he wanted to go to Lior, but it didn't matter if he wanted to or not. He wanted to be fuhrer so badly that he couldn't risk questioning the fuhrer (any further than he already had). He had to ask himself if going to Lior to squash the uprisings and riots was the right thing to do, and if it wasn't, was being fuhrer worth doing it?

"We have to get measured," Hughes said suddenly. "Let's go."

Roy looked up to Hughes, grimacing. His measurements weren't something he needed to be worried about; it wasn't something that he needed to add to his routine.

"Yeah. Let's go."


	2. Choices

Standing in line, Roy began to feel himself get anxious. He kept his sweaty hands in his pockets. Hughes stood behind him waiting for his turn as well, and Roy wondered if he could tell how antsy was; he felt that it was radiating off him. Roy allowed himself one quick look at Hughes, to which he gave an easy smile when he noticed Roy looking at him.

"Next!" Roy heard being called and next was him.

He stepped forward and instantly a man was barking at him to take off the top half of his uniform. He hesitated but when the man gave him a stern look he began to move more swiftly. When Roy had his jacket and shirt off, he felt the blood run to his face making it boiling hot. He couldn't imagine being anymore embarrassed than he was currently. The man doing the measurements looked at him disapprovingly as he stood stiffly. As Roy assumed he would, the man measured his waist, shoulders, wingspan, and height.

"I'm done here," the man said. "You can get dressed and go."

"But—"

"I said I'm done here. Get dressed and go."

Roy didn't move until the man gave him a push on the shoulder. He stumbled forward and put his shirt back on, tucking it in sloppily as he watched Hughes get undressed. It was jarring how different Hughes was from himself. Hughes easily took off his jacket and pulled the shirt he wore over his head. Roy had noticed that after Elysia was born and after he was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and moved to the Intelligence Agency that Hughes had grown softer. That wasn't to say that he wasn't still in shape, but Roy did notice that he had loosened up after his responsibilities shifted to having a child and a desk job.

Roy felt a spark of envy surge through him. He wanted to be like that, badly. It must be so nice to be able to simply have your body be the thing you used to move around and nothing more. That is wasn't something to constantly inspect and scrutinize for not ever looking quite right. He felt that he was almost incapable of that thought-process.

Hughes pulled his shirt back on after he was done, holding his jacket as he walked up to Roy. That hadn't told him his measurements either.

"Lunch?" Hughes asked.

"I'm, ah—" Why hadn't they told him his measurements? He just had to get undressed in front of a bunch of people without even getting to know his measurements? That didn't make sense. Why was he even freaking out about this? He told himself he didn't want to know his measurements. "I already have—"

"I know," Hughes said. "That soup and salad you bring every day, but let's grab something different. My treat."

Roy wracked his brain for an excuse not to go, but Hughes knew that Roy was always one to do something if someone else was paying. Before he could even open his mouth with a lie or an excuse, Hughes clutched onto his arm.

"Come on." He smiled. "Let's go."

"I have to—" Roy tried saying. "My paperwork...and I already have lunch..."

"When did you ever care about paperwork?" Hughes laughed. "Give me a break."

Roy knew he was being irrational. He could of course control what he ate where ever it was that Hughes took him, but it made him uncomfortable that he deviating from his routine. He wanted so badly to be stern with Hughes and turn around to go to his office. But Hawkeye was probably there, maybe he would stick with Hughes...

* * *

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye walked into the office, expecting to see the colonel sitting at his desk and eating his small lunch. He wasn't there, though, only Havoc and Breda were sitting there eating and playing cards. The two were talking and laughing loudly but stopped suddenly Hawkeye entered the room.

"Relax, boys," she said playfully. "The fun doesn't have to end just because I came in."

The two ducked their heads and couldn't help but laugh.

Hawkeye went over to the colonel's desk and eyed all of his paperwork. Most of it was already done.

"Did you speak to the colonel after his meeting?" Havoc asked.

She turned around and faced Havoc. She looked to Breda, then back to Havoc.

"No. Why?"

"I don't know," Havoc said, looking at the cards in his hands and shifting their positions in his hand around. "He was bothered by it, but Hughes kicked me out of the room."

"So, Lt. Colonel Hughes spoke to him about it?"

"Either that or he could tell I wanted to go for a smoke."

Hawkeye couldn't be sure exactly what Lieutenant Havoc had meant by that, but she figured she could assume. She sat down next to Havoc, in Falman's seat. She propped her head up with her hand as Havoc turned back to his game with Breda. She didn't listen to their banter, too occupied by the colonel.

She knew she shouldn't have kept the measurements from him. How did she think he would react? Moreover, confronting him right before his meeting was also a mistake, she knew that. Not only that, Mustang was less likely to open up after that. It was already a struggle to get him to give her anything real, she didn't need it to be any harder.

Inquiring about the colonel to Hughes came to Hawkeye's mind. Perhaps he had also noticed something strange about the colonel's eating habits. If Mustang would allow anyone to be somewhat privy to it, it would of course be Hughes. She could hope that somehow Hughes wouldn't be completely aloof to the subject; she would hate to bring it up and it be the first Hughes was hearing or even thinking about it. Though, if it was obvious to her, Hughes had to have noticed something. Then again, during the day at work, it was Hawkeye who saw the colonel more, so she couldn't be sure.

Breda turned to Hawkeye.

"What's up with Mustang?"

"What?" she asked, being pulled out of her daze.

"What's up with Mustang, I said."

Again. "What?"

"You and Havoc seemed concerned is all, I was just asking."

Havoc pulled his shoulders in a shrug. "I told you I don't know."

"I—" Hawkeye quickly shut her mouth. "I only knew he was worried about his meeting, that's all."

Breda blinked at her stupidly.

"So," she said, raising the corner of her lips slightly. "What are we playing?"

Maybe it was she who needed to learn how to open up more.

* * *

Roy looked down at his plate and he could feel Hughes looking at him.

"It's great, trust me."

Roy looked up and Hughes was grinning. He gave a smile back and looked back down as Hughes got started eating. He had ordered for the both of them, getting the same thing for each of them. He had tried to refuse, but Hughes assured him, "No, it's great! I always get it!"

It wasn't bad. In fact, Roy really enjoyed the taste, but it was the guilt of eating it that ruined the taste. He ate slowly, keeping his head down the whole time Hughes talked about his wife and child.

Hughes gushing about Gracia and Elysia always gave Roy conflicted feelings. On one hand, it obviously pleased him to hear his closest friend talk so fondly of his wife and child, and it pleased Roy that Hughes even had a wife and child. On the other hand, though, Roy couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy whenever he gushed on and on about his family.

Since the two had gone to the academy together, Roy's closest confidant had always been Hughes. Anything that Roy was willing to open up about, Hughes would hear it first. The two leaned on each other, always. But, when Hughes started seeing Gracia, he began to lean her more than Roy. Understandable, of course, but Roy lamely still leaned and depended on Hughes as much as he did before. He wished that Hughes would depend on him more often because he wanted to be able to help Hughes in the way that Hughes helped him.

Once Hawkeye came into his life, he could sense that his relationship with Hughes was similar to Hawkeye's relationship with himself in this way. He knew that he was Hawkeye's confidant, but that Hawkeye wasn't exactly his in the same way that he was hers. The two had met around the time when Hughes had gotten married, so he was grateful that there was someone else there he could lean on if need be.

If Roy wasn't too stubborn to actually lean on someone once in a while.

"The Lior uprisings," Hughes started and Roy quickly looked up at him. "I can assume you don't think they should be stopped."

"It's not that," Roy said. "I think they're dangerous and shouldn't be allowed to run rampant."

"That being said..." Hughes urged Roy to explain the other side of what he thought.

"That being said," Roy echoed. "I don't know if a colonel needs to go and stop it. I think the MP can handle it themselves. I think Bradley just wants to be able to control Lior and shove our military there."

"Lior never had any military oversight," Hughes replied. "Maybe he thinks this is...some kind of cry for help for military protection?"

"But a colonel? I'm confused as to why he thinks they need someone so high-ranking."

"Roy Mustang being modest as always."

"Shut up," Roy said light-heartedly, rolling his eyes. "You know what I'm trying to say though, right?"

"I think so?" It came out like a question.

"I just think Bradley is only sending in a colonel to make Lior completely military controlled. I can't think of why else he would need me to go in and why he can't just send the MP's."

Hughes was quiet for a few moments. "If you really don't think you should be going, you should speak to Fuhrer Bradley."

"Are you kidding? I might as well just give up my hopes of being fuhrer right now."

"I'll back you up, Roy, you know that."

Roy smiled. Of course, Hughes would back him up, just as he always did. Hughes didn't seem to have any kind of goals or aspirations when it came to being in the military. Since the war in Ishval, Hughes had always been behind Roy's dreams of being fuhrer. Other than Hughes vouching for Roy's ambitions and doing everything in his power to help Roy, Roy was unaware of any kind of goals that Hughes had set out for himself.

"Listen, Roy," Hughes began before Roy could reply. "If you don't believe this is the right thing to do, then you shouldn't be doing it."

"But it would be for the greater good, wouldn't it? Arguing with the fuhrer could cost me the position later on."

"That could be true."

"Could be?" Roy blurted. "There's no could be about it. I can't question the Fuhrer and still expect for the higher-ups to respect me whatsoever!"

Hughes hummed and nodded.

"Plus, we have a physical tomorrow to see if we're healthy enough to go. Can you believe that?"

"Oh?" Hughes's eyebrows went up. "A physical?"

"Yeah, isn't that ridiculous?"

Hughes responded with a shrug. "Well, did you decide what you're going to do?"

"Go to Lior! As if I have a choice..."

"You always have a choice, Roy, don't forget that," Hughes said, suddenly very serious. "And I'll back you on whatever choice you make."

Hughes' words made Roy freeze up. He couldn't help but look back at Hughes dumbfounded. He was right. Roy did have a choice; however, that didn't exactly mean that both choices would still lead to becoming fuhrer. It was up to Roy to decide what he could live with. If he decided to go to Lior, that meant that he inadvertently endorses a heavy military presence in Lior even if it did (hopefully) work towards the greater good of being fuhrer. Roy wasn't sure if he felt comfortable possibly giving up his goal of being fuhrer by questioning Fuhrer Bradley's intentions of going into Lior.

"Right," Roy rasped. "I know that."

"Anyway," Hughes said, and then shifted the focus to a conversation he thought would a little less uncomfortable for Roy. "You don't like the food? You barely ate any."

"No, it's not that." Roy already had the perfect excuse. "I guess my nerves took over my appetite, sorry."

Hughes laughed. "Don't apologize, Roy. We should probably get going anyway."

"We probably should."

Hughes left money on the table and the two left.

The entire ride back to HQ Roy couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He hated lying to Hughes; it felt so wrong considering he would never judge or admonish Roy if he told the truth. But, that didn't make telling the truth easy always. What was he supposed to say? That he didn't want to eat all his lunch for the purpose of keeping his weight down? And how would Hughes react to that?

Roy practically jumped out of the car almost before Hughes even turned off the engine. The two walked back to Roy's office silently.

"Oh, Colonel, you're back," Hawkeye had said when he and Hughes entered the office.

"Yeah..."

"I just took him for lunch was all," Hughes smiled. He gave a wave on his way out. "I'll see you later, Roy."

Roy felt Hawkeye's gaze drag on him as he walked to his desk. He paid no mind to her as he opened the Lior file Havoc had given to him earlier. He couldn't help but wish his other men were in the office; it was stifling with just the two of them there—their previous conversation looming over their heads. Roy had been wrong to dismiss Hawkeye in such a way, but he also knew that if he didn't it would've blown into a conversation he just couldn't have yet.

The soup and salad that he always brought came to his mind. His lunch was sitting in the fridge, the salad waiting to be tossed and the soup waiting to be heated on the stove in the break-room. Roy almost felt a small smile creep onto his face, knowing that he had actually eaten less by going to lunch with Hughes since he barely touched his food. It had been mostly that he was busy with his thoughts, but that wasn't entirely the truth. He ate slowly on purpose, knowing that he and Hughes were going to talk (even if couldn't exactly be sure what about) and that meant Hughes would be too distracted to realize he wasn't eating. Although, Hughes had noticed that he barely ate, but by then he already had an excuse for why he wasn't.

Lying and being evasive always made Roy extremely uncomfortable. Though, when he was prepared, he was very good at either. Roy hated lying to Hughes. It didn't feel right, and that's because it wasn't right, and he was all too aware of that.

Roy looked to his lieutenant. He also hated lying to her.

He suddenly felt very lonely.

Roy never thought that restricting his diet would be something so secretive. He knew he would keep it private, but he didn't know that it would be something that he constantly felt hanging over his head. Or, even something that put a strain on all his relationships. It almost felt as if he was having an affair and couldn't allow anyone to be privy to it. Perhaps that would even be better because then at least someone would know and it wouldn't feel like it was him versus everyone else.

"You always have a choice, Roy, don't forget that."

Hughes' words rang in his head. It was his choice, every day, all the time, to keep his eating habits to himself. He knew that he was making a choice by not allowing anyone to truly know what he was doing. He was making the choice to keep doing something he reasonably knew was doing more harm than good. He almost couldn't remember clearly a time where he ate normally and when what he ate wasn't constantly on his mind.

Roy couldn't help but think back to being measured. Why the hell hadn't they at least told him what his measurements were? How embarrassing was it to get undressed in front of everyone! To even think about putting up a fight was somehow more embarrassing, then everyone would know that he was self-conscious. Why kind of soldier feared the thought of taking their shirt off? It was so immature that Roy could almost burst from how ashamed he felt

The physicals the next morning would hopefully be less...dreadful. Roy already was well aware of his weight, so it didn't matter if they told him or not. He knew that even though he already knew the number, it would still displease him. At least though, it would be over quickly and there would be no surprises. Roy was grateful for at least that.

Suddenly, Hawkeye spoke.

"Colonel?" she said quietly from her desk.

"Yes, Lieutenant."

Hawkeye rose from her desk and went to Roy's. "I want to apologize for our argument in the hall earlier today."

"I accept your apology." Roy swallowed and spoke again. "I'd like to apologize for my tone as well. I understand you were just concerned and I got defensive."

"Sir—"

"But I can assure you that there's nothing you need to be concerned about. I only got defensive because it felt like you were giving me the third-degree." Roy flashed a grin. "I appreciate your worry, but please don't take it upon yourself to be concerned about my eating habits."

Roy knew that Hawkeye was still skeptical. She nodded and made to go back to her desk.

"I'm serious, Lieutenant. I understand your concern, but I can guarantee you it's unwarranted. I would never purposefully under-eat for whatever reason. I need to keep my strength, same as you."

Lying felt too natural; it made his chest start to ache.

"Understood," she said. "I'm sorry again, sir. I was stupid to think that you would—"

"Would what?"

"Have an eating disorder."

Roy knew his face had to be one of surprise and fear wrapped into one. Hawkeye quickly scanned his face, keeping hers straight as ever. Roy cleared his throat and tried his best to match her expression.

"Stupid, indeed."

She nodded again. "It's only that you've lost weight is all and I don't see you eat much. I guess I thought worst-case scenario."

"I'm busy," Roy lied through his teeth. "I'm trying to eat better, but it's difficult with such an insane schedule."

"I understand."

"Is that all?" Roy asked quickly. "I have paperwork that still needs to be finished."

"That's all."

Roy made a motion for her to go back to her desk, which of course she did. He was clenching his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. Where did she get off saying something like that? To put Roy in that position?

Moreover, why had Roy almost wanted to admit to restricting his food intake? It seemed too easy to just blurt out: "I do! I'm so terrified of eating and gaining weight, I could implode!" He thought that if he hadn't taken a moment to respond that he would've blurted that out; perhaps that's what Hawkeye had wanted. Perhaps she had wanted to see and analyze his face when she said it. Worst of all, Roy knew that his lies did nothing to lower her suspicions. In fact, his lies probably heightened her suspicions even more.

Roy felt elated almost at the mention of his weight loss, although it was completely nerve-wracking to hear her say it aloud. It sent his head reeling with confusion. He didn't want anyone to notice his weight loss because they would be alarmed but at the same time, he wanted everyone to see. It felt somewhat rewarding to hear Hawkeye mention it. That way he knew that he had lost weight and was managing to keep his weight down.

It certainly was a sign that Roy had lied so boldfaced about not under-eating on purpose. He knew that the fact that he was lying about his eating habits also meant that he needed to open up about it, so someone can help him.

Oh, how desperately he wanted that! How mind-numbing was it that Roy wanted nothing more than to just peacefully live his life with his controlled diet, but at the same time he wanted to just confide in someone and get out of this madness.

There was a feeling of impending doom in Roy's belly. He knew that everything would come to the surface soon enough, and he was stuck between feeling dread and anticipation.


	3. Control

For dinner the previous night, Roy had the lunch he had packed but never got to eat because of Hughes. As soon as he ate it, he regretted it. He should've just tossed it and went to bed without anything. Since he had regretted it so badly, he exercised before he showered and went to sleep early.

Roy awoke earlier than usual, suddenly and in a cold sweat. He had a nightmare, and he was partially thankful that he had somewhat of an internal alarm clock, even if it was in the form of a morbid dream. He wanted to rise early anyway, so he could extend his exercise regimen before his physical. Roy knew it wouldn't do much rationally, but it almost felt like he couldn't help it. He couldn't get it out of his head that someway exercising for an hour more would drastically affect his weight.

Though, exercising longer made him feel faint. Usually, after he worked out, he would sip on coffee and read—typically the newspaper but not always—but he couldn't even do that. Today, he could only lie down after having a cup of coffee. Roy dozed off accidentally but a call from Hughes woke him up.

"Hey, Roy!" Hughes shouted when Roy picked up, he moved to receiver away from his ear. "Want a ride to work?"

"Sure," Roy said. He couldn't help but question to himself if there was some ulterior motive for asking Roy if he wanted a ride. "That'd be good."

"Did you just wake up?" Hughes asked. "Sounds like you did."

"Uh, no. I'm just tired is all."

"Mm. Alright, I'll be there in a few."

Roy hung up the phone and sat back down on his couch. He tried to think of what other reason Hughes could have for wanting to give him a ride other than just wanting to do something nice. Roy then threw that question out of his mind, feeling guilty for thinking ill of Hughes' intentions.

Before long, a few beeps came from outside, Hughes signaling that he was at Roy's house. Roy grabbed his bag and went outside. As soon as he closed the door to Hughes' car he realized he forgot to bring lunch with him. Guess he won't be eating lunch today. That would at least make up for eating dinner last night.

"You have your physical this morning, right?"

"Yep." Roy glanced at Hughes, who quickly glanced back at him. "Why?"

"Just asking." A pause. "Have you lost weight, Roy?"

Roy tensed all over. He made his best attempt at looking unbothered as he anxiously wracked his brain for an excuse. Should he just use the same thing he had told Hawkeye the day before? Should he deny it? Or was it that noticeable? Again, Roy couldn't help but feel a weird mix of reward and shame in the fact that Hughes had noticed his weight loss.

"Roy?" Hughes said and Roy was ripped from his thoughts.

"Yes," he said quietly, and then a lie. "Sorry, I was thinking about Lior, still."

"You're eating okay?"

"I try to. I'm just—"

"Busy, I know."

Roy quickly flicked his gaze to Hughes. He tried to decipher by Hughes' face to see if he thought Roy was lying or not. He couldn't find out whether Hughes was genuinely curious and unaware of Roy's eating habits or if he was trying to pry.

He opened and closed his mouth over and over again, groping his mind for some kind of response, or excuse, or lie, or—

"I understand, Roy. Sometimes I'm too busy to eat right," Hughes said, "but you're looking kind of thin. I think you should try and eat more."

Roy was surprised by how he felt about Hughes mentioning him being thin. It felt like it wasn't true, but Roy knew it was. He was uncomfortable about Hughes mentioning it and he knew it was because it showed that Hughes was aware of something going on. Roy thought that he would feel a little more excited to hear Hughes calling him "kind of thin", but any positive he felt was almost completely smothered by a deep feeling of guilt. It caused heat to travel to his face and he felt like an anvil was in his stomach. He could hear and feel his heartbeat all over and he thought it could drive him insane.

"Okay," Roy managed to say finally. "I will."

Hughes gave a smile. "Relax, Roy, I don't mean anything by it. I'm just looking out for you, you know that."

"I do..." he said, trailing off.

"You do know that, right? That I'm looking out for you?"

"What's with this all of a sudden?" Roy shouted. "Why are you saying that?"

"I only know that you're worried about Lior and I want you to know that I'm always here for you, that's all."

"Huh," was all Roy gave. He couldn't even tell himself if he was faking annoyance or if he was actually annoyed.

Hughes looked as if he wanted to say more, but he hadn't. Roy wondered if this conversation was the reason Hughes wanted to drive Roy. Probably. He still couldn't tell what Hughes was actually thinking. He wished there was some way to find out if Hughes was being honest or not about not meaning anything by it.

Again came the feeling of wanting to admit to his restrictive diet, to admit that he knew what he was doing was wrong but couldn't stop. Maybe that would put an end to Roy's constant worries about his weight, diet, and body.

Did he want to put an end to this? There was something soothing about having complete control over his diet; it was something it could depend on. Roy liked being able to control his weight because for once it felt like something was finally in his hands.

"You're absolutely sure that you're not going to talk to Fuhrer Bradley about Lior?"

"Hughes, I really don't think I have a choice."

"You do—"

"I already know what you're going to say and I'm not sure if I agree. If I want to be fuhrer, then I don't have a choice."

Hughes made to respond, opening his mouth slightly and glancing at Roy. He sighed instead and stayed quiet.

"But you'll have my back no matter what I choose, right?"

"Right. Of course."

Hughes parked his car and turned off the engine. Before Roy could get out, he reached over and grabbed ahold onto his arm.

"Roy, I want you to know that I trust you to do what's right."

"You think I shouldn't go to Lior."

"No, that's not what I said. It's not about what I think."

Roy bounced his gaze all over Hughes' face, searching for why he was saying this. He wanted badly to just say to Hughes, "Tell me what I should do!"

Instead, Roy said, "I'm doing what I think is right."

Hughes smiled and Roy felt his chest swell with sweet relief. "As I know you always do."

The two walked into HQ, Hughes going to his office and Roy making his way to the Medic's. He wanted to get his physical over with as soon as possible. Private Zell was leaving the room as Roy was going in.

"Colonel," he said, saluting. "May we speak after you're finished?"

"Of course," Roy replied. "Wait in my office. I should only be a minute, right?"

"Right, sir, it only took a few minutes. I'll be in your office."

Private Zell slipped past Roy and Roy went into the office. He closed the door behind him and the doctor sitting in there looked up from his desk.

"Colonel Mustang," he said. "Let's move to the exam room."

The exam room was a small room connected to the doctor's office. The two stepped in and the doctor wasted no time.

"Take off your shoes and undress," the doctor said. "Put on the gown that's on the chair and knock on the door when you're done."

Roy nodded and the doctor left the room. He took off his uniform quickly and put the gown on almost before he was done getting undressed because he couldn't stand being undressed. Roy knocked on the door and the doctor appeared back in the room.

"Okay," the doctor motioned for Roy to step on the scale. "Let's weigh you and get your height."

Roy stepped on the scale, swallowing thickly. He could feel his limbs stiffen. The doctor fiddled with the scale until it was balanced and recorded Roy's weight on his clipboard. Then, he placed the horizontal piece of the stadiometer atop of Roy's head to take his height. He recorded this on his clipboard as well. He measured his blood pressure, his eyesight, checked his hearing and listened to his breathing through a stethoscope.

"Sit down for a minute, would ya?" the doctor urged, after giving Roy a few moments alone to get dressed again. "Let's talk."

Roy knew he couldn't argue with the doctor, but he wanted to bolt. He knew the conversation would be about his weight and he couldn't handle the pressure, yet he felt he couldn't do anything but oblige.

"You've lost weight, Roy," he said bluntly. "You're 138 pounds and last time I weighed you, you were..." he scanned the clipboard. "165."

It made Roy cringe to hear what he used to weigh. Normally, he'd think of his weight loss as an accomplishment, but he was too stressed to be anything but ashamed about it. He tried to keep his composure, but the doctor's accusatory tone was making him antsy.

"And this was after I told you to manage your weight when you had lost weight before as well." The doctor wasn't looking at Roy whatsoever, he kept his gaze down at his clipboard as he spoke. "Roy, as a soldier, I expect you to weigh somewhere around...maybe 190?"

"190?" Roy couldn't help but blurt out.

"Well, if you're eating right and keeping strong, yes."

Roy gaped at the doctor, absolutely speechless. He couldn't begin to think about forming a coherent sentence. Roy had expected that maybe he would be encouraged to put on weight, but he surely didn't think it would be 50 pounds.

"Now, don't get me wrong," the doctor said. "I'm not saying you have to be at that weight per se, but I think that if you want to have a soldier's build it's not a bad goal."

The doctor finally looked up at Roy.

"Why have you lost weight, Roy?"

"Well, I thought—I mean, I'm only—"

"Stop scrambling for lies. Tell me the truth."

Roy quickly shut his mouth, keeping his lips tightly pressed together. He stayed quiet, unable to find something to say to explain himself.

"Okay," the doctor said after several beats. "Tell me this then, do you think you need to put on weight?"

What kind of questioning was that? What was he supposed to say to that?

"I-I-I—" Roy knew he sounded foolish but he couldn't help it. "I don't know."

The doctor sighed heavily, again averting his attention away from Roy and to his clipboard instead. He scribbled something down as Roy waited anxiously. The doctor looked back up with a grimace.

"Roy, I don't think it's a good idea to send you to Lior," he said quietly.

"What? Why? I'm more than capable of going!"

"I don't think that you are. I'm wary of you going into any type of combat, your weight and blood pressure are concerning."

"It's not combat," Roy said, ignoring the latter half of what the doctor said. "It's only stopping an uprising."

"You don't think there will be any type of combat?" The doctor shook his head, "Never mind that, I'm not giving you the okay to go."

"What?" Roy jumped from his seat. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"I am not, and I urge you not to take that tone with me."

Roy couldn't even think straight. What would the doctor tell the Fuhrer when he would tell him that he wasn't signing off on Roy going?

"I'm sorry, but I just think that you...you misunderstand. I'm alright and I can handle going to Lior."

"I misunderstand?" The doctor asked. "So make me understand."

Roy could almost feel his control slipping through his fingers. It seemed like either way, whether he explained himself to the doctor or not, he wasn't going to get his way. He knew that explaining why (and how) he had lost weight would only serve to make the doctor think even worse of Roy. Although, maybe if he explained himself as calmly and rationally as he could, the doctor would understand. Roy didn't necessarily have to admit to wanting to keep his weight low. He could lie and say that he wasn't sure how to diet properly and only needed some help with what to do.

But that would mean that he would be expected to put on weight no problem after that.

"Roy, listen, perhaps if you're still needed, later on, we can do another physical and see if you could go."

The doctor spoke to Roy almost as if he was speaking to a child. It made Roy disgusted with himself. The doctor must have thought he was so naive.

"That is," the doctor continued. "If you're willing to put your health at top priority, and that means eating enough."

"Uh—of course," Roy stammered.

"I also think you should speak to a psychiatrist, Roy."

He played stupid. "Why's that?"

The doctor worked his jaw, trying to find a way to reply. He looked again at Roy's chart and even Roy could tell he was only doing so to stall.

"Sometimes emotional problems—" Roy scoffed and the doctor shot him a look. He started again. "Sometimes emotional problems can manifest themselves into physical ones."

"I don't have any—"

"I have to say, Roy, I don't believe that."

Roy went quiet. He started to get a little irritated with the doctor. He didn't even know if he should argue with the doctor to try and go to Lior or if he should just nod along so he could escape quicker.

"I'll see one if I have the time," Roy said, already turning to leave. "Alright?"

"I'll be speaking with the fuhrer about Lior. I hope that you'll keep what I've said today in mind."

Roy had his hand on the doorknob. It was too easy to just rip the door open and rush out, but there was something else pressing on Roy's mind.

"What, ah, are you going to tell him?"

"I'm concerned about the heat in Lior with your low blood pressure," the doctor said. "I think it's best if you don't go until I find a medicine that works to raise it...that sound correct?"

Roy's eyes widened. He was confused as to the reason why the doctor wouldn't tell the fuhrer about Roy's weight if it was such a problem. He let his hand fall to his side.

"Make sure to get your weight up," the doctor said. "I don't want to have to have this conversation again."

He was almost short-circuiting. Roy couldn't find anything to say. Should he thank him? Maybe not. Thanking him would prove Roy had something to hide.

"Understood," Roy said.

"Come back in a couple of weeks, if the Lior uprisings still need handling."

"I don't know if that's necessary."

"Actually," the doctor said, not paying what Roy said any mind. "Come back even if they don't."

"I..." Roy gave up on protesting. "Alright."

Finally, Roy left the exam room and the doctor's office. He hastily went into his office, desperately wanting to just sit down at his desk and think for a while. He had to think of what he was going to tell everyone about Lior. Should he tell what the doctor told him he was going to tell the Fuhrer?

Roy opened the door to his office to see Private Zell talking to Breda. Before he could close the door and pretend that he hadn't opened it in the first place, everyone in the office (Zell, Breda, Falman, Fuery, Hawkeye, and Havoc) looked up at him. He froze, his eyes going slightly wide and his eyebrows going up; he knew he must've looked daft, surprised that there were people in the office.

What he was surprised at, really, was Private Zell. It had completely slipped his mind that he had told Zell to wait in his office for him. He regretted not thinking about Zell going to Lior alone. Zell wanted to talk more about Lior presumably, but he wasn't sure what Zell would say. Moreover, Roy wasn't sure what he was going to say to Zell.

"Shocked that we're actually doing our work?" Havoc asked.

"Uh, no, I'm—" Roy forced out a laugh. "Just forgot what time it was, I guess."

Havoc held up a file for Roy. "This is more about Lior, fresh off the press."

"About that," Roy said. "I'd like to speak with Private Zell alone."

A cacophony of agreements filled the room suddenly as everyone stood up to leave. Havoc handed Roy the file as he passed by him to leave the room. As the door clicked shut, a thick silence filled the room as Roy made his way to his desk.

"Pull up a chair," Roy said. Private Zell did and sat down. "What did you want to talk about? Lior?"

"How did you guess?"

Roy and Private Zell shared a small laugh. At least it didn't feel so tense for the time being.

"What is it exactly you wanted to discuss?"

"Well, a lot of things, actually," Private Zell said. "First, I wanted to ask why you didn't think we should be in Lior."

Roy sighed, "It's not that exactly. I'm just concerned with a heavy military presence there. The people in Lior are full of religious fervor, similar to the people who lived in Ishval. I only have the concern of it becoming some kind of...military occupied town because one of ours messed up the peace there."

"One of ours? You don't mean the Fullmetal alchemist, do you?"

"Actually, I do. I'm not saying what he did was wrong, because the people in Lior were living in ignorance—"

"But they were still in peace, does it matter if it came from ignorance?"

"The people in Lior were being manipulated."

"I know, but they had something to believe in. I can't imagine how many people simply just gave up hope after Cornello's lies were brought to light."

Roy allowed himself a few moments to digest what Private Zell was saying. He hadn't thought about it like that previously. Maybe it was better to allow people to live in ignorance if it meant they were peaceful, or if it means they could have hope.

More importantly, how did Private Zell feel about the military stepping into Lior?

"Are you asking how I feel about going into Lior because you don't agree?"

"Yes and no," he said. "I don't know how to feel."

"Don't let me tell you how to then." Roy shifted uncomfortably. "There's something I need to let you know, Private Zell."

"Sir?"

Private Zell's face was full of innocent curiosity and Roy was hit with a strong feeling of guilt. What kind of colonel allowed for his weight to affect his performance as a soldier? Roy didn't believe this day would ever come, where his weight would affect his work. Why hadn't he told the doctor he needed to be in Lior for Private Zell? Maybe that would've changed his mind?

Roy's tongue had tied himself in a knot. He felt so thoughtless for selecting Private Zell to go on this mission, then backing out of said mission (even if not on his own volition), leaving Zell alone. Well, that wasn't true, someone else would most likely be assigned to it. Still, Roy had chosen Private Zell himself. This was his first important assignment and Roy felt like he was leaving him hanging to dry.

"Due to my low blood pressure, the doctor doesn't think it's a good idea for me to go to Lior." Roy wanted so badly to avert his eyes, but he maintained eye-contact. That was the least he could do. "We're still working on finding what medicine works right for me. I'm sorry."

"You just found this out?"

Roy nodded.

"H-How did you know about this before?" Private Zell cried. "I don't understand how you are just finding out about this now?"

Roy shrugged, "It never proved to be a huge problem, I suppose. The doctor said he wouldn't sign off on me going to Lior."

Now is where Roy had to look away. The look of betrayal on Private Zell's face was too much for him. Could he tell Roy was lying?

* * *

Hughes shuffled through his paperwork with Roy on his mind. He glanced at his watch and figured that he was finished with his physical, so he decided to make his way to Roy's office.

As he walked to Roy's office, he thought of what Lt. Hawkeye had approached him about the evening before. She came into his office right as he was getting ready to leave for the day.

"Lt. Colonel Hughes, may we speak for a moment?" she had asked.

"Yeah. What about?"

Hawkeye had entered his office nervously, which was Hughes' first hint that the conversation was most likely about Roy. A million things had run through his head when she had sat down and stayed quiet. She had needed Hughes to encourage her to speak and he told her that whatever it was she was nervous about would only get worse if she kept her to herself.

"It's about the colonel," she said. "I'm worried about him."

"You mean the Lior case? I'm sure he'll be fine."

"No, not that." She went quiet again. Hughes gave her a small nod to encourage her to keep going. "I don't think he's eating right."

Hughes frowned, knowing already the answer to his question. "Why's that?"

"He's lost some weight, sir. At first, it was hard to tell with his uniform, but it started showing in his face," she said. "I tried speaking with him about it earlier today."

Roy always had a boyish face, but Hughes had noticed that he lost some weight in his face. Hughes had also only noticed it showed on his face, because of the uniform since it made it hard to tell he had lost weight. He would've been able to see it earlier, but Roy had been blowing off any plans Hughes had tried to make with him. The only time he spent with Roy outside of work lately was going for a drink after work because it was all Roy would agree to do. Roy would cautiously sip on one glass of whiskey and only have that. Hughes hadn't known Roy as someone who would get drunk every time he drank; however, he did find it odd that Roy only drank one drink any time the two had gone out recently.

But that was a couple of weeks ago. Roy hadn't agreed to out when Hughes had asked any time since then.

"And how'd that go?"

"Not well, but I think that's my fault. I brought it up right before his meeting. I don't know why I thought that he would confide in me right before something like that."

"Hmm. I did notice that he's lost some weight, but I didn't want to ask about it. I figured he was probably aware of it." Hughes paused, maintaining eye-contact with her. "You think he's losing weight on purpose?"

"Yes, sir, I do." Hawkeye put a handle to her temple, her eyebrows knitting themselves closer together. "I just spoke to him about it again. I can't believe I said that."

"Said what?"

"'I was stupid to think you have an eating disorder'," Hawkeye repeated what she had said to Mustang. "I'm not stupid for thinking that, but why the hell did I say it to him outright like that?"

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it now," Hughes said. "But that's what you think is happening?"

Hawkeye nodded.

Hughes tried to ask more about Roy but Hawkeye admitted that she didn't know much more. Hawkeye had said she needed to know more before she could try to talk about it to Roy again.

"Talk to him, sir, please," she had said before leaving.

So, Hughes had asked Roy if he wanted a ride in the morning so he could do just that. He didn't get much out of him, but now he had made it known to Roy that he noticed he was losing weight. Hopefully, Hughes made it apparent that he only thought it was due to Roy having other things on his plate—even if that wasn't true.

Hughes admittedly hadn't given much thought to the idea of Roy losing weight on purpose before Hawkeye brought it up. Actually, he hadn't given the idea any thought. He did notice Roy losing a bit of weight and of course, it sparked worry, but Hughes figured he wasn't taking care of himself well enough. Maybe that was true and Hawkeye was wrong. Still, it was worth finding out.

Outside of Roy's office, he could hear Roy apologizing.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I'm sure someone else will be assigned to go with you."

Hughes leaned closer to the door. Was Roy not going to Lior?

"You're right, Colonel," Hughes heard. It was Private Zell. "I'll keep you updated as much as I can about what's happening there."

Hughes could hear Private Zell rise to his feet and salute Roy. Once he heard footsteps approach the door, he backed away and acted as if he just happened to be right outside. He nodded at Zell and went into Roy's office.

"Oh, Hughes," Roy stammered. "Were you...listening in?"

"No, but I did catch you saying that someone else would be assigned to go to Lior to Private Zell," Hughes said, making his way to Roy's desk. "Am I to understand you're not going?"

Roy looked up at Hughes, his jaw obviously clenched. "No, I am not."

Hughes grinned at Roy, but his face was still full of obvious confusion. He sat at the edge of Roy's desk, turning his head to look at Roy.

"That was a sudden switch. What did you tell Fuhrer Bradley?"

* * *

Hawkeye sat in the break-room with all of the colonel's other men. She sipped on her coffee quietly at her own table as the boys talked and laughed loudly at the other table. They were completely unaware of her worries about Mustang. How odd that was that her thoughts felt so loud but they had no idea what she was thinking.

"I hope we don't have to go to Lior," Havoc said, suddenly quiet and morose. Hawkeye perked up. He was staring into his coffee cup as if something was in it. "I really hope that it doesn't blow up into something crazy."

"Eh, I don't think it will," Breda shrugged. "I think Mustang can handle it just fine."

"Yeah, it's nothing to worry about," Falman said.

"I guess so." Havoc looked to Hawkeye. "Did you get a chance to talk to him yourself, Lieutenant?"

"No, I didn't," she said, recoiling at her conversation with the colonel the previous day. "I'll have to after he's finished with Private Zell."

Hawkeye watched as Havoc seemed to easily shake off his worries about Mustang and go back to talking about trivial things. Falman however seemed to still be thinking deeply about Mustang. He stood up from his table and moved to the table Hawkeye sat alone at.

"Do you know if the colonel is the one that requested he go to Lior?" he asked.

"You think that the colonel wanted to go to Lior?" Hawkeye rose a brow. "I don't know. I didn't get to talk with him about it at all."

"At all? He didn't say anything to you."

"No," Hawkeye said quietly. "He didn't."

"Oh. I thought he would go to you if he any real doubts about what to do."

Hawkeye put her head down. That was true. Why wasn't the colonel confiding in her? Not so much about Lior (although she wondered why Roy didn't brief her at all on the meeting) but more so about his eating habits. After talking with Hughes, it didn't seem like he had confided in anyone about his eating habits. If it wasn't Hughes and it wasn't her, he must be keeping it completely private.

Of course, he would keep something like that private. Once he allowed someone else to be privy to it, the colonel would have to stop doing...whatever it is he was doing. Mustang must be aware of the fact that if he was to admit to Hawkeye that he was avoiding eating—if that's what he was doing—that obviously he would be encouraged to stop and that she would be watching to see if he was eating properly.

Was it possible that Hawkeye was wrong? Perhaps Hughes was right and he just wasn't taking care of himself. But, after Mustang had dodged her questioning, she was sure she was right, even if she couldn't be exactly sure what was wrong with the colonel.

"I'm sure he knows you're there to support him if he needs," Falman smiled. "You know that you can't squeeze anything out of him, you just have to be there until he's ready to talk."

"Right. I know."

"If something with Lior is really bothering Roy, he'll come to you."

But what if it wasn't something with Lior? Would he still come to her?

* * *

The way Hughes' eyes and face were lit with praise for Roy made his heartache. He was looking at Roy with a look that was full of nothing but immense pride. It made Roy only want to say something that would please Hughes.

"I told him that I didn't want to go," Roy said, feeling like his nose might grow. "because I didn't think that the people of Lior needed anything but MP's to help aid in calming the riots."

"I can't believe it, Roy!" Hughes reached over to grip Roy's shoulder, almost slipping off Roy's desk. "Well, I can, because of course you would do what you know is right, but I'm so proud that you actually did it!"

'Yeah..." Roy shook off Hughes' hand. He stood up and went to the front of his desk to look at Hughes directly. "Is it what you would've done?"

"Roy, I told you it doesn't matter what I think you should've done."

Roy's insides went cold. "You think I shouldn't have turned it down?"

"It doesn't matter! You did what you think is right!"

He felt like he could be sick. It did matter what Hughes would do because then he just lied for nothing. He should've just told Hughes what the doctor said he was going to tell the Fuhrer. It could be so stupid sometimes! Why didn't he just explain that the doctor wouldn't allow him to go and leave it at that?

Because Hughes would know it had something to do with his eating or lack thereof.

"It does matter, Hughes. I care about what you think."

Hughes shrugged, "We disagree. It's not a big deal."

"You do think we should go to Lior! Why?"

"The people in Lior need a strong military hold. They need more than just MP's to stop the riots because they need a path to go on after the riots stop. They clearly need something to lead them after Cornello, and if it's our military then it's our military."

"Well, they're probably just sending someone in my place," Roy spat. "Maybe if you cross your fingers it'll be you."

Hughes heaved a sigh. "Come on, don't be like that."

"I have work to do," Roy said. "Leave."

"Roy—"

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, that's an order. Leave."

It wasn't often Roy used his rank against Hughes. He had only done it twice as far as he could remember, and both times were in the war in Ishval, back when Roy himself was a Lieutenant Colonel and Hughes was a Major.

Lieutenant Colonel Hughes stood up and gave a look that Roy was familiar with. It was a look that said, "I already forgive you for this, even before you apologize." Hughes very rarely gets mad at Roy and even more rare was for Hughes to stay mad.

Hughes simply left the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

Roy allowed his head to fall as he let his tensed body relax. He knew he wasn't mad at Hughes, but at himself. For allowing his weight to affect his performance. For lying.

Maybe he was a little irritated with Hughes. He hadn't known that Hughes thought that way, and it almost made Roy feel slighted to hear Hughes have the opposite opinion. Still, it's not that Hughes had made Roy angry, it was only that Roy heavily disagreed with Hughes and was angry he lied for what felt like nothing.

But it was easier to be angry at someone else than at yourself. Being angry with yourself only meant looking inward and facing your problems. Similarly to how Roy wasn't ready for Hawkeye (or Hughes) to confront him about his eating habits, he also wasn't ready to confront himself about it.

A pang of hunger hit Roy. He pushed it to the back of his mind. He could at least not worry about lunch; there was at least that.


	4. Strain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a tad longer than the rest, enjoy! I hope to keep the chapters more so around this length or longer.

When Hughes left Roy's office, he stood outside for a few moments. There some small part of him that thought Roy would maybe call him back in and apologize. Roy wouldn't do that, Hughes knew, he always needed time to sit on his wrongdoings. Roy wasn't one to apologize suddenly and quickly; his apologies were always bumbling and awkward, even after sitting on them, but they were genuine. When Roy wasn't sincere (apologizing to a superior officer for something he didn't believe he did wrong) he was always clear and succinct.

Hughes decided to go to the break room and wasn't surprised to see all of Roy's men, but they seemed surprised to see him.

"Colonel kicked you out too, huh?" Breda said.

"He's done speaking with Private Zell," Hughes replied. "He was finishing up it seemed like right before I was on my way to go in."

"Catch anything good?" Havoc asked.

"Nah, he was only saying that someone else will be assigned and then Private Zell left."

Hawkeye swiftly glanced up at Hughes. "Someone else? He's not going?"

"No?" Hughes shot up a brow. "You didn't know that?"

"No, I did not."

Hughes sighed. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, talk to Roy and report back to me."

He was trying to not make it obvious that he was concerned about Roy. He didn't want his other men to think there was anything wrong, but speaking so formally to Hawkeye probably only served to do just that.

"Yes, sir. I'll speak to him now."

She rose to her feet and left the room. Hughes sat down at the table with Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery. He made a simple motion for everyone but Havoc to leave the table and they complied wordlessly. Havoc looked to Hughes with his usually goofy aloof disposition.

"What's up?" he asked casually.

"I just want you to make sure that you keep an eye on Roy."

"Because of Lior?"

"Well...yeah. I just would like to know more about how he's feeling about it, is all."

Havoc rose a brow. "Can't you just ask him yourself, sir?"

"We don't agree on Lior—"

Havoc's eyebrows jumped to his hairline. "You don't?"

"No, we don't. You'll be able to see how he feels about that?" Hughes asked. "We got into a small spat and I just want to make sure he's alright, but I think I'm the last person he wants to see."

"Mmm," Havoc hummed. Hughes couldn't be sure if Havoc really understood what Roy and his difference of opinion on Lior meant for Roy. "Sir, if I can ask, why aren't you speaking to the lieutenant about this?"

Because she has enough on her plate without worrying about Lior, Hughes thought to himself. Surely Havoc would understand that, but Hughes wasn't sure if alluding to a bigger problem was such a good idea.

"Listen," he said instead, "I just don't want Roy to feel like Hawkeye is in his business. You were there after his meeting, right? So you're concerned about it."

"Ah," Havoc sat back and a small smirk appeared on his face. "I understand. I'll keep an eye out and let you know of anything."

Hughes grinned, "Thanks," then he lowered his voice, "I'm sure I don't have to mention to keep this between you and me?"

"Keep what between you and I?"

Hughes stood up, giving Havoc's shoulder a small squeeze. "Great. Thanks again."

Hughes gave a small wave to the rest of Roy's men and slipped out of the room. He felt a little better knowing that Havoc was looking out for Roy; Havoc was always good at getting people to open up since he was so easy to talk to.

Now it was time to go to his office and wait for Hawkeye...

* * *

Hawkeye rapped softly on the office door before going in. The colonel only looked up when the door closed behind her; he was still standing in the same place as when Hughes left. Hawkeye could only let out a small, hesitated noise and go for the door to escape.

"Lieutenant," the colonel said, patting himself down to look as if he was only straightening out his uniform. He turned to his desk and busied himself with papers. "I was only telling Private Zell that I—"

He left his mouth open as he turned to face Hawkeye again. Hawkeye's face twitched with confusion, it seemed like the colonel had just suddenly forgotten the rest of his sentence.

"Sir?" Hawkeye took a few steps closer to him. "You what?"

"I'm not going to Lior," he said. "I was telling Private Zell that and what Lior might be like."

She didn't know whether to admit to him that Hughes had already told her that. She wanted to ask why he wasn't going, but she felt like she would be prying. Never has she felt that before; that asking the colonel what was in his head was stepping too far.

Hawkeye didn't want to allow herself to be pushed away. "Sir—"

"I don't want to hear anything about Lior," the colonel interrupted her. "Tell that to the rest."

With that, he walked around his desk and sat down. He put his head down in his work, ending the conversation.

Hawkeye couldn't help but feel dumb. She stood there, biting her lip and trying to decide if she should just rush up to his desk and demand an answer or if she should just remain quiet. She decided to try once more.

"Colonel—"

The colonel sat down at his desk, not looking at Hawkeye at all. "Give it a break. I don't want to hear it, I just told you that."

"Right, but—"

"And don't go asking around behind my back," he mumbled.

Hawkeye made a small, surprised noise. That comment had taken her aback; the colonel never cared for rumors that went around about him. The fact that Roy was worried about people discussing him not going to Lior meant that he was hiding something. What that also meant was that Hawkeye would respect his wishes and not ask about it. Though really only Havoc and Hughes seemed somewhat knowledgeable about it, there was always Private Zell...

The colonel had his head down at his desk, his paperwork in front of him. Hawkeye was sure he was finished, so she couldn't be sure what he was actually doing. Ignoring her, probably.

"Although, Colonel, I didn't come here to discuss Lior," she said. He looked up swiftly, opening his mouth to cut her off, but she went on, "I noticed you didn't bring any lunch. I wanted to ask if you would like to get some with me."

"Oh," he said as if he was letting out a sigh, "Uh—"

Hawkeye smiled. "My treat."

"I'm a little busy here, Lieutenant," the colonel said. She was going to nod and just forget she asked, but then he added: "Well, just let me finish up here, and then we can go."

* * *

After Hawkeye and Hughes were out of the room, it only took maybe eight minutes for Breda, Fuery, and Falman to get restless and leave the breakroom and go to the office. Havoc said he'd be there in a few minutes and that he was going to make a cup of coffee, but really he just needed a moment by himself.

Havoc couldn't help but feel as though there was something that there was more going on with the colonel than Hughes was letting onto. Still, Havoc would do as Hughes asked and peek around about the colonel's feelings towards Lior and the disagreement with the lieutenant colonel. He couldn't be exactly sure why Hughes had picked him specifically, but Hughes trusted him, so he was going to do it and he was going to do it well.

Mustang could be so closed off sometimes. That being true, Havoc never found that he had many issues getting him to open up when he wanted Mustang too. He always felt that he could get the colonel to open up relatively easily, compared to the complaints of Mustang's other subordinates. Perhaps that's why Hughes had picked him specifically.

Had Lior always been on the colonel's mind? He had been so distracted lately it seemed. As private as the colonel was, Havoc never felt that he was distant, but lately, he had been. Mustang, as of late, wasn't opening up about anything lately and was becoming increasingly irritable. Even more so irritable than usual, Havoc smirked to himself, if that was even possible. Havoc had also noticed that the colonel had lost a bit of weight, but he didn't feel like it was his place to poke around about it. If Roy needed to open about something he would. Right?

Well, that probably wasn't true. Havoc knew that Mustang didn't allow just anyone to be privy to any of his inner turmoil. Hughes and Hawkeye were the only two who got to know his deeper thoughts, but even then Havoc didn't think that they knew everything. Though, as of right now, Hawkeye seemed clueless about everything regarding the colonel (much to her worry, Havoc noticed), and Hughes quite obviously needed help knowing Roy's thoughts.

Havoc himself could be a pretty open guy. He didn't necessarily like talking about things troubling him, as they tended to put him in a bad mood, but if he needed to get things out in the air or talk anything through with someone, Havoc thought nothing of it.

Hopefully, he could get the colonel to open up.

He got up to leave the breakroom, but he made sure to make a cup of coffee before he left.

* * *

Roy was staring down at his paperwork, willing himself to calm down. Everyone had come back into the office and Roy felt like he couldn't think. His mind was racing with excuses to not go with Hawkeye. He knew that nothing he could come up with would sound legitimate to Hawkeye; she would know he was just making excuses. She said to herself that she knew he had brought no lunch with him and Hawkeye knew Roy was a sucker for having people pay for him.

Although, maybe biting the bullet this time could get Hawkeye off his back for a while. Maybe she wouldn't be so suspicious of him and realize she was worrying about nothing. Well, that wasn't true, because she wouldn't be worrying if it was about nothing and Roy wouldn't be having an internal debate about whether or not he should go to lunch with her. Still, though, perhaps this lunch would get her to ease up.

"Alright, Lieutenant," Roy announced as he stood up. "Let's go."

Hawkeye rose from her desk and nodded at Roy. The two left the office and Roy offered to drive and asked where Hawkeye wanted to go.

"Anywhere you'd like, sir. You know all the good places around here."

Roy thought he would take her to where Hughes took him the day prior.

The thick silence in the car made Roy frown. He and the lieutenant could always sit comfortably, but now it was like there was a wall between them. Roy couldn't help but feel guilty because he knew he put the wall up. But, when did Roy start building that wall? He couldn't be sure when exactly the strain in the two's relationship started. Probably around the time where he and Hughes' relationship began to have a strain as well.

"Hughes took me here," Roy said awkwardly, trying to make conversation.

"Oh," as all Hawkeye said.

Roy tried to rack his brain for something—anything!—to say to her that would lead somewhere. Though, a conversation could lead to Roy's eating habits so he almost didn't want to say anything. Roy could at least be sure that she wouldn't bring up Lior. He could also be sure that at least she wouldn't ask anyone else about it since he had asked her not to.

By the time the two had sat down, Roy could already feel Hawkeye regretting her decision. She was obviously a little nervous, which made Roy feel another pang of guilt. Since when was Hawkeye ever nervous around him?

"Get this!" Roy reached over and pointed at her menu. "It's great, trust me."

"Mmm, okay," she said. "I'll try it."

The pair waited quietly to order and after the waitress left after they did, Roy finally decided to start a normal conversation. But, he would make the conversation about her.

"How are you, Lieutenant?" he asked.

Hawkeye looked up to him, almost looking surprised he was asking.

"I'm okay. Things just seem to be a little—" she worked her mouth to find the right word, "worrying right now is all."

He knew he would probably regret asking, "Why's that?"

"With Lior and all," she said and Roy was about to make a motion to stop her, but she continued. "I mean, I can't help but worry if it'll be another Ishval."

"That was my worry too," Roy admitted quietly. He wasn't sure if he should tell her that he wasn't going to Lior for the reason he told Hughes or for the reason he told Zell. Even if she wasn't the one starting the conversation about Lior, she was going to find out something from someone surely. Hawkeye herself probably assumed Roy had made the decision not to go, but there was a chance she would hear about his health concerns. "Let's not talk about it, okay? No use getting ourselves worked up about something that's not a problem yet."

"That's—Okay." Hawkeye looked around, it almost looked as if she was looking for something to talk about. "Oh! I wanted to ask about last week's meeting with General Grumman."

"What's there to ask about? You know we just play chess."

She smiled, "Exactly. Who won?"

"It wasn't me," Roy said. "It's never me."

Hawkeye laughed and it was music to Roy's ears, "One of these days, sir."

Roy and Hawkeye talked so casually that Roy almost forgot where they were. It was so refreshing to see Hawkeye smile instead of the concerned grimace Roy had recently become accustomed to. Roy had almost forgotten his anxiety about this meal. Almost. And then it came to the table.

Hughes hadn't—or hadn't seemed to—pay too much attention to Roy while he was eating. Hawkeye would of course notice if he hadn't eaten much. Perhaps she wouldn't say anything and save it to confront him later on. Or was Roy just being crazy? Thinking she was somehow collecting evidence to confront Roy with?

Maybe that wasn't so crazy. He knew that Hawkeye was waiting for his mask to slip, for the other shoe to fall, for something so she could go: "Aha! I was right all along!" Perhaps she was talking to Hughes about it and—

"Looks great," Hawkeye said.

Roy looked up at her. "Yeah..."

It felt so humiliating to feel so anxious about something natural. Even though Hawkeye didn't know, or rather, even if Roy didn't explicitly tell her that he was extremely anxious to eat a meal he didn't prepare himself. He knew he was being ridiculous about this. He could just not eat dinner. He already didn't eat before, per usual, so one larger meal was okay as long as it was the only meal of the day.

"I'm sorry for being so weird lately, Colonel," Hawkeye said suddenly. "I know things have been a little tense between us, even before that meeting about Lior, and well...I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Honestly, I've been busy and stressed out. It's my fault things have been tense, I'm sorry."

Even though Roy wasn't being completely honest, it felt nice to apologize. Of course, Roy didn't necessarily like Hawkeye in his personal affairs, but that didn't mean he had necessarily meant to push her away to the point where talking to her normally had become weird and awkward. Roy couldn't decide if keeping Hawkeye at an arm's length was worth keeping his eating habits private.

The urge to blurt a confession to Hawkeye's suspicions came again. The anxiety that came from a single meal could almost push Roy to confide in Hawkeye right here. All it would take was for Roy to open his jaw and allow his worries to come out, just say what was on his mind. How easy was that? And all this worry would go away. All this constant struggle over his weight would suddenly be done.

"Lieutenant—"

"Let's just say it's both of our faults and that we'll both try to fix things, alright?"

Roy suddenly shut his mouth. Was he crazy? He's lucky Hawkeye cut him off and saved him from the mistake of admitting anything. He could be so rash sometimes.

"Alright," Roy said. He forced the corners of his mouth up. "Sounds like a plan, Lieutenant."

Hawkeye smiled back at him as he kicked himself for coming so close to spilling everything. He had to be more careful. Maybe it was worth keeping Hawkeye at an arm's length.

Once the silence with Hawkeye went back to being a little more comfortable, Roy allowed his mind to drift. He thought about Hughes. Maybe it would be easier to confide in Hughes first; he had known Hughes for longer. On the other hand, Hawkeye seemed to be more suspicious, so maybe it would be easier to confide in someone who seemed to have an idea of what was going on.

Where did this sudden need to tell anyone about his eating habits come from? All that would do is worry Hawkeye or Hughes, or both. Plus, it would only serve to make issues worse. Why did Roy think that simply telling someone of his anxieties was enough to relieve them? That was stupid.

"Are you alright, Colonel?" Hawkeye asked suddenly. "You look distracted."

"I'm fine," he said. "Though, I am a little distracted. Hughes and I got into a bit of an argument before you had come back into my office."

"About what, sir? If I may ask."

"About Lior? We don't see eye-to-eye, is all. I kicked him out of my office," Roy said quietly. "I don't even know why it upset me so much."

That wasn't true. It upset Roy because it meant that he had lied about the reason for not going to Lior for no reason.

"You should apologize, sir."

"I know, I know." Roy waved his hand as if to dismiss the issue. "Ah, I'll talk to him later."

Hawkeye shifted in her seat. "I'm just about done here."

Roy looked down to his almost untouched plate, then back to Hawkeye. He truly hadn't meant to ignore his lunch this time, but...

"I am too. Let's go."

When the two stood up and Hawkeye placed some money on the table, Roy placed his own money on the table and gave Hawkeye hers back.

"I said I would treat," she laughed. "Let me pay."

"What type of gentlemen would I be if I didn't pay?"

Hawkeye could only roll her eyes.

Once the two were back in the car, Hawkeye reached out for Roy's arm before he could start his car.

"Colonel—" She stopped suddenly and pulled back her hand. "Never mind."

"No, not 'never mind.' What's the matter?"

"I'm sure the lieutenant colonel isn't upset with you," she said quietly. "If that's why you didn't eat."

Roy felt tense all over. Hawkeye was saying this only to watch Roy react like she had done when she accused him of having an eating disorder. He would manage his composure this time better for sure.

"My mind was someplace else, Lieutenant. I know it's important I eat more, but I've just been finding myself so distracted lately."

"About what, sir?"

"About Hughes, about Lior—"

"And before that?" Hawkeye asked.

Now, this was his chance to produce some excuse as to his weight-loss. One that wasn't as lame as that he was busy; that could only hold true for so long. Now he was given a chance to think of something better, and he wasn't going to blow it.

"I-I don't know," Roy stammered, and he wasn't sure if he was feigning it. "I'm not sure if it's one thing."

"It's okay to feel that way sometimes, sir, but it's important that you talk to someone about it."

Roy opened his mouth to end the conversation. He did not want to talk to her any further about this.

"Have you ever thought about seeing a psychiatrist?" she asked before Roy could speak.

"Have you?" he snapped back. Hawkeye could only raise a disapproving brow. "Sorry. I mean, I don't think I need a psychiatrist. I'm not crazy."

"I never said that you were. Plenty of people see one."

"Do you?"

"Well, no—"

"I'm not seeing one," Roy said. "I can assure you I can handle this on my own."

"Handle what on your own?"

Roy could almost feel the wall on his back. He knew Hawkeye was just waiting for him to break.

"Nothing. I just meant being distracted is all, it's nothing."

Now he was getting too defensive. If only he could allow himself to stop and think!

"Alright," she said. "But you'll think about a psychiatrist?"

"Fine, whatever."

The entire ride back to central command Roy spent cursing himself. He had been given a perfect chance to clear Hawkeye's suspicions and he had blown it. If only he had time to think over his answer, but Hawkeye would've caught his lie. Perhaps the conversation hadn't worked to raise her suspicions about Roy's eating habits and he was just being paranoid. But, it was hard for Roy to think that he was being irrational or paranoid when just the day before Hawkeye had thrown that eating disorder comment in his face. How calmly she had said that almost as if she knew and was simply giving Roy the chance to own up to it. That's exactly what she had done.

Hawkeye had almost run out of the car when they arrived at central command; Roy had to quicken his pace to come with her. She had simply returned to her desk when they got back into the office and Roy went into the break room for a cup of coffee. When he came back into the office, she was gone.

"Where'd she go?" he asked Havoc.

Havoc shrugged. "She didn't say."

Roy went to his desk and it only took a few moments for Havoc to come up to him.

"Yes?" Roy asked impatiently.

"I just wanted to ask how you were," Havoc said, sitting on the edge of Roy's desk and turning his head to look at Roy. "You seemed upset after your meeting yesterday and all."

"I just don't agree with Fuhrer Bradley," Roy replied. "But that stays between you and me."

"Of course, sir."

"And it doesn't help that I also don't agree with Hughes," Roy couldn't stop himself from adding. "Or that he agrees with the fuhrer."

"Oh." Havoc's face twitched in confusion. "He does?"

"Yeah...what do you think, Havoc?"

"You know, Colonel, I'm not sure if I know what I think. I don't think I understand what exactly you two disagree on."

"I don't think we should be in Lior because I don't trust the fuhrer implementing a heavy military presence there whereas Hughes doesn't seem to think it's a problem. I don't see how he could think that, seeing as he was in Ishval with me."

"How is Lior related to Ishval?"

"It's not, that I know of, but in Ishval we had to settle uprisings and—"

"And that's what you'd be doing in Lior and you don't want it turning into another Ishval, I understand."

Roy couldn't help but grin, "Yes, you do understand! Hughes doesn't seem to."

"You've tried explaining it to him?"

"Yes. I don't understand his line of thinking."

"And then what?"

"What?" Roy asked stupidly.

"He told you he didn't agree with you, and then what happened?"

"Oh, uh..."

Roy could feel his face get warm; he was so ashamed of how he spoke to Hughes. He needed to apologize.

"I don't know," Roy said, covering his eyes with his hands. "I kicked him out of my office instead of just listening to him."

"Huh," Havoc shrugged. "I'm sure he knows you were just frustrated."

"I still feel bad, but I—" Roy grit his teeth and sucked in a breath. "I can't explain it. It just made me so...angry when he said he disagreed with me. Or, it's not even that, just seeing him shrug at us going into Lior made me angry."

"I get it, I think." Havoc smiled, "I think it's understandable where you're coming from. Maybe Hughes doesn't really understand how important this is to you."

Roy scanned Havoc's face. He was so easy to divulge to and he was so open to understanding. Plus, maybe he was right, maybe Hughes didn't understand where Roy was coming from. That's why it was so frustrating (on top of Roy being upset with himself for lying when Hughes didn't even agree with him), because how could he not understand?

"Right, maybe."

"Alright," Havoc started, standing up. "Just wanted to see how you were, is all. You looked a little...off, is all."

"Off?" Roy rose a brow. "How so?"

"Well, I don't know how long Lior has been worrying you, but it's just that you've lost a bit of weight and—"

"I'm just busy," Roy dispensed. If only he got paid every time he said that. He'd be rich. "That's all."

"Oh." Havoc pulled his shoulders up in his signature shrug. "Alright then. Just make sure to eat even if you are busy, Colonel."

Something just seemed so innocent in that way Havoc had said that. He had just taken what Roy said for face-value, which made Roy almost grimace. He kept his same disposition, not wanting to give Havoc any reason to suspect he was lying.

"Right."

"And don't worry too much about Hughes. I'm sure if you talk to him, it'll work itself out."

"You're probably right."

Havoc smirked, "No, I am right, and you know that."

"Alright, alright," Roy laughed, "Get back to work."

Havoc gave another one of his charming smiles before going back to his desk.

Talking with Havoc gave Roy the courage to apologize to Hughes for pulling the rank card; that was unnecessary and Roy felt poorly. Roy never thought of Hughes as less-than for simply being a rank under him. It was almost as if Hughes purposely kept himself below Roy since Roy knew Hughes could climb the ranks. He knew that Hughes, hopefully, would only see Roy using his rank to get Hughes out of his office as a display of his frustration and not a display of Roy thinking less of Hughes.

When Roy stood up to go to Hughes' office, Hawkeye had come back into the room. She quietly slipped past Roy as he was on his way out and she was on the way to her desk. He decided to wait until he got back to the office to ask her where she was because Hughes was more important right now.

Hughes was sitting at his desk when Roy came and instantly looked up when his office door opened.

"Roy," he smiled warmly. "Hi."

Roy's chest ached. Of course, Hughes would smile as if nothing had happened. It would always make Roy feel so guilty whenever he did that, because he couldn't help but feel that Hughes was only acting as if things were okay as to not make Roy feel bad about his actions.

He couldn't help but stumble to the chair in front of Hughes' desk and fall into it. Hughes' face dropped to concern.

"Are you alright, Roy?"

"I'm sorry, Hughes...I'm," Roy scrunched his face up, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—Ah, the way...when I called you, or I mean...when I said—"

"Oh, Roy, please, it's alright. Don't bother."

"Stop always acting like that," Roy spat. "I'm trying to apologize to you. I was an ass, let me apologize."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Hughes said. "I...accept your apology, Roy."

Hughes smiled again and Roy felt a familiar, comfortable warmth in his chest. A small smile of his own bloomed into a large one that he tried to suppress with a hand. The two shared a small laugh at the awkwardness of Roy's apology. No matter how many times he had apologized to Hughes, he could never seem to get it right.

"I had just been thinking about it while I was at lunch with Hawkeye," Roy said, and before he could continue...

"I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah, she just left my office."

"What?" Roy asked. "Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. I was only asking how you were."

"Well that doesn't make much sense, Hughes, seeing how she came to your office and you didn't come to ours."

Hughes took a moment. He could only wait for Hughes' lie. "I only wanted to see if she had gotten anything assigned to her."

Considering Roy had lied to Hughes just earlier in the day about the reason why he wasn't going to Lior, he decided not to question Hughes' lie.

"Oh, sorry. I just...I'm sorry."

Did Hawkeye mention how little he ate? Why could she gain from telling that to Hughes? But, if she mentioned Roy being distracted during lunch, surely she would have mentioned that. It was so irritating to know that Hughes and Hawkeye talked about him behind his back and he couldn't say anything about it.

Moreover, Roy was uncomfortable with the idea of Hughes and Hawkeye scheming to confront him together. Besides, if he were to open up to either of the two it would need to be on his own terms.

"Well, I should be going," Roy said as he rose to his feet. Instantly dizzy, he fell right back down.

Hughes swiftly stood up, "Roy? Are you okay?"

He gave a weak chuckle, "Stood up too fast."

"Okay," Hughes said. "You look pale, you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Roy said quickly. "I really should be going."

Roy rose from his seat slowly. He gave another weak chuckle before turning around, letting his face drop, and walking to the door. Before he could escape though, Hughes called out his name.

"Yes?" he asked without turning around.

"Never mind," Hughes mumbled. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Too antsy to leave, Roy wasn't going to pry on what Hughes was going to say. Wordlessly, he slipped out of the room and shut the door softly behind him. He walked slowly, so slowly, to the bathroom. He needed to splash some water on his face to try and cool himself off. He was suddenly incredibly edgy and still a bit dizzy. Once he was in the bathroom, Roy inwardly rejoiced at the fact that no one else was in the bathroom. He turned on the sink and put the cold water onto his face.

The reflection that Roy saw when he looked up made him uneasy. Normally he loathed his boyish face, but he felt uncomfortable seeing someone with a more defined face in the mirror. He looked haggard and tired where he usually looked youthful and awake. Roy couldn't look at himself for more than a few moments before looking away. He felt so incredibly disheartened seeing himself.

He knew he didn't need to lose weight. He knew that. To think that he needed to lose more weight he knew was irrational, or even to think that he needed to maintain his low weight was also irrational. Roy simply felt comfortable at this weight because he was the one who had put himself here. He hadn't lost weight from being ill or anything else, he had lowered his caloric intake and upped his exercise to lose the weight. Something about that was comforting. It was comforting to have his own little thing, to be able to lose and put on weight (as if he would willingly) as he pleased.

But oh, was it lonely. It was so lonely to try and keep everything a secret. The more weight he lost and the less he ate, the further he had to keep everyone.

Roy heard the door open and quickly turned to leave. It was Armstrong, who said a quick hello before Roy left and went back to his office.

As he sat at his desk, he could feel Hawkeye's gaze burning a hole through him. Maybe when she looked at Roy she had the same feelings he had just had. No wonder she was so worried, Roy couldn't say that he would sit back if the roles were reversed. The idea of being his eating habits and the true extent of Roy's anxieties concerning them being found out made Roy so incredibly nervous he felt he could no longer look her way. He put a hand on the side of his face, holding his head up so that he couldn't see the lieutenant.

As the rest of the day went by, Roy stayed quiet. Breda and Havoc were particularly talkative, as usual, while Falman, Fuery, and Hawkeye were rather quiet themselves. Roy kept his fingers crossed that no one would turn to him and try to talk to him.

By the end of the day, when everyone else had cleared out, Hawkeye and Roy sat at their desks silently.

"Colonel," Hawkeye said finally. "You talked to Hughes before?"

"Yes? Why?"

"I just want to tell you that I don't think it's your fault," she said, standing up. "I don't want you to feel guilty."

"What's not my fault?" Roy asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh—" Hawkeye left her mouth in a small "O" shape, blinking at Roy. She quickly tightened her lips into a small line. "Nothing, sir."

"Lieutenant..."

"You should talk to him again, sir."

Roy quickly stood up, again feeling dizzy but pushing through it. He rushed to Hughes' office but he was already gone. He picked up Hughes' office phone and dialed his home phone number.

"Hughes," Roy said suddenly after he could hear Hughes pick up but before Hughes could speak. "What didn't you tell me?"

"Roy? Why are you calling me on my office phone?"

"Answer my question."

Roy heard Hughes sigh. Another lie?

"I'm going to Lior," Hughes said. "Come Monday."

Roy almost dropped the phone but instead tightened his grip. His whole body tense and he felt he could faint; he was numb all over instantly.

"Wha-What?" Roy asked lamely. "You're not serious."

"I am," Hughes said. "It's alright, Roy. I don't think there's a problem with our military being there, I don't mind going."

"Screw our military being there!" Roy shouted. "What about Elysia and Gracia?"

"What about if you went? Were you concerned about danger?"

"It's different, Hughes. I don't have anyone like you."

The line was quiet for a few moments.

"You have me, Roy, I'd care if something happened to you."

Roy gave a strangled noise. Hughes could be so dense. "That's not what I meant," Roy spat. "I don't have a wife or child to worry about if things get bad there."

"Roy, calm down, please."

"Hughes—"

"Roy."

Roy took a deep breath. "Hughes, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you did what you think is right, that's all."

Roy let out a soft groan. Oh, it hurt to hear that. He regretted lying so badly. Even if he had told the truth, it was still Roy's fault that Hughes was going. How could he allow his weight to affect his work like this? To affect his relationships like this?

"Hughes, I..." Roy trailed off. He fell into Hughes' desk chair and was bombarded with all the photos of his family that littered his desk. "Ah, I..."

"Roy? Roy, you okay?"

"I'm okay...it's just that I wanted to tell you..."

"Tell me what, Roy?"

He wanted so badly to admit that he lied, but he was so nervous to. How lame was that? This man was going to do what was supposed to be Roy's job and he couldn't even admit to lying.

"I'm worried, Hughes. I don't want this to be another Ishval."

"It won't be, Roy, and you know if it is, I'd leave."

"Right...of course..."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I don't know, Hughes."

Roy was clutching the phone with both hands now, leaning his head on it. If he wasn't in central command, Roy thought maybe he could almost cry. He felt so guilty for making Hughes go to Lior. He didn't think there was a high chance of serious danger to Hughes, but when it's someone with a wife and a child, the chances feel increased even if they actually aren't.

"Tell you what, Roy. Come for dinner tonight, okay? Elysia wants to see you."

He could hear Hughes smiling through the phone and it made him feel even worse. The idea that even dinner with his best friend was causing him anxiety was so ridiculous. He wanted to strangle himself for being so unreasonable. What kind of soldier couldn't go to dinner without flipping out internally about it? A colonel no less!

"Okay," Roy murmured.

"You okay to drive?"

"Yes," Roy said between gritted teeth. "Of course."

"Okay," Hughes said. "I'll tell Gracia to set another plate. See you in a bit, Roy. Goodbye."

"Bye..."

Roy could only look at the phone stupidly before setting it down. He closed his eyes and sat back, giving himself a few moments to calm himself down.

He barely ate at lunch with Hawkeye and surely Hughes wouldn't expect him to eat a lot after that phone call. He had already decided when he went to lunch with Hawkeye that he wasn't going to eat anything for the rest of the day. Maybe it wasn't that bad to eat at Hughes' considering how dizzy Roy was feeling today.

How could he still be thinking like this? It felt so immature to be concerned still with what he was eating when Hughes was going to Lior.

Roy told himself that for this one time he wasn't going to spend the entire meal thinking about what he was eating or his weight. For Hughes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that these chapters haven't gotten too in-depth with Roy's eating disorder and are more about Lior, but future chapters will so please keep that in mind if eating disorders are a trigger.


	5. Lapse

Before Roy could go to Hughes' house, he had to stop at his own house. He got into comfortable clothes, worked out, showered, and got changed again. It was weird that he felt a certain sense of guilt for working out before going to Hughes' after telling himself that he wouldn't worry while he was eating. He almost felt that he had to exercise before going or else he'd be racked with anxiety while he was there. He just wanted to be able to enjoy Hughes and his family's company, but if he were to just go there without exercising he would only be able to think about how much he ate during the day.

Oddly enough, even exercising in the morning also filled Roy with a similar sense of guilt. Obviously, it was completely normal to do so—he had always worked out in the morning since he started the academy—but Roy was aware that he didn't have a good relationship with it. Whenever there was a day that Roy would miss his morning exercise (whether he was sick or woke up late or any other circumstance), he would think about this constantly during the day. Roy would be noticeably preoccupied every time he missed it.

Roy weighed himself before he left and he was still 138, which was no surprise. He knew realistically it wasn't going to change, but he had to check anyway.

The ride to Hughes' wasn't long whatsoever, but it felt long. Roy spent the entire time trying to will his thoughts surrounding his next meal away. So badly he just wanted to have a nice, normal meal with Hughes, especially now since he was going to Lior. He could at least do that for Hughes.

"Roy, it's so nice to see you!"

Gracia opened the door with a big smile, holding Elysia in her arms. She put her down to wrap her arms around Roy. He couldn't but wonder if she would notice he lost weight from that; he tried his best to push that thought away.

Roy stepped into the Hughes' house as Gracia closed the front door behind them. Instantly, a savory aroma hit Roy like a truck. What was it like to come this every night? A lovely wife that had dinner ready for you and a beautiful daughter that couldn't wait for your arrival...what a dream Hughes must be living. Roy ached for a family and every time he went to Hughes' house that ache always made itself more apparent.

What was it like to come home looking forward to dinner?

"Roy," Hughes said. "Let's go to the other room and get out of Gracia's way, okay?"

He nodded and followed Hughes into the living room. Roy couldn't help but feel a little tense because he knew they were going to talk about Lior. Hughes sat down on a chair and Roy sat across from him, on the couch.

"I'm sorry, Hughes," he said abruptly before Hughes could start the conversation. "I didn't think...I wasn't thinking if I wasn't going then..."

"Roy, please stop apologizing. If going to Lior is what I need to do for you to do what you think is right then so be it."

A sigh passed Roy's lips, "Hughes..."

"It'll be okay! You didn't think it'd be dangerous before, right?"

"Well, not necessarily, but I'm worried about it turning into something else...and then it would get dangerous."

"Something else?" Hughes asked. "Like Ishval? I don't understand why you're so sure of that happening."

Roy shifted uncomfortably. How wasn't Hughes understanding this? It wasn't that Lior was definitely going to be similar to Ishval, but there was a large possibility of a large military presence becoming something more.

"I don't understand why you're so nonchalant about it!" Roy heard his voice getting loud and cleared his throat. "What makes you think you'll simply be able to leave? It's not like we left Ishval."

"That's—" Hughes shook his head. "That isn't the same. If things get bad, I'd like to think I have the power to leave if things turn sour."

"You don't!" Roy leaned forward, almost off the couch. "Do you forget that I had the same ranking you do now while we were in Ishval?"

"No, I don't. What I mean is: we were young when we were in Ishval. We were in uncharted waters. No matter what happens in Lior, I can assure you I'll be okay and have a good conscience."

Roy couldn't be sure if Hughes was saying what he believed to be the truth or if he was just trying to ease Roy's worries, but either way, Roy still felt a bit antsy about the whole thing. He couldn't even be sure what was worrying him anymore; he wasn't sure if he was worried about Hughes getting hurt or things "turning sour" and Hughes doing something he'd regret. Again.

"Okay," Roy said, his voice wavering more than he'd like. "I still feel like it's my fault."

"As I said, Roy, I'm just glad you can do what you feel is right, even if we disagree."

"Please stop saying that."

"Why?"

"Because that's how I know it's my fault," Roy said quietly. "You wouldn't be going if I was going, and you'd be able to have a problem with it if I was going."

Hughes took a few moments before responding. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

"You do realize if I didn't want to go, I could also tell the fuhrer I wasn't going as you did."

Roy thought he could faint from how fast the blood ran to his face. There came again the numb feeling from only an hour or so ago when Hughes told him he was going to Lior on the phone. Shame gripped his throat and he could only look at Hughes with wide eyes, unable to produce a response. Hughes could only reach out and put a comforting hand on Roy's knee.

"Roy, it's okay. Please stop worrying about it so much."

"But I—"

"Please? For me?"

Roy bit his tongue.

"Fine," he mumbled. "But if something happens to you..."

"I won't blame you because it's not your fault."

He had no choice but to believe Hughes. Maybe if he actually told the fuhrer he wasn't going to Lior, he'd feel differently, but that wasn't the case. Roy suddenly felt hot all over with shame. He briefly wondered how Hughes would react if he admitted to lying. Hughes always forgave him for everything, but would he forgive him for this?

Most likely. That made Roy feel worse, knowing that if he admitted to lying, Hughes would forgive him.

Though, if Roy admitted to lying, of course, Hughes would ask why. What was he to say? If he was honest with Hughes, that didn't mean telling him what the doctor said, about his low blood pressure. What that meant was owning up that the doctor was wary of his weight-loss and that's why he wasn't going. Even if he had chalked it up to his low blood pressure, it would still mean his health wasn't the reason he was going and that he had no control over that.

That wasn't true. At all. Roy had full control of his weight, which meant that he also had control to change it and not let it affect his work. Of course, in hindsight, it was easy to think that since he didn't know the doctor wouldn't want him going to Lior because of his weight. But, even now, when the doctor had mentioned if Roy got his weight up, he would probably okay Roy going, he still didn't want to put on weight. He could, obviously, but he didn't want to.

"Right," Roy rasped. "Of course."

Hughes smiled, his face softening. Roy felt a strange mix of comfort and guilt from the look on Hughes' face.

"Anyway," Hughes said, pulling himself up. "You want a drink?"

"Oh, uh..."

Roy hadn't allowed himself a drink in a few weeks because he found a part of him became fearful of alcohol.

"Sure," he said. "Thanks."

Hughes nodded and slipped out of the room. Roy felt a little antsy waiting for Hughes to get back, mostly because of the meal he was going to have to eat. He thought that maybe a drink wouldn't be so bad, maybe it would take some of the edge off and ease his anxiety. He couldn't help but rub at his knees uncomfortably, trying to work out some of the energy produced by his anxiety.

Hughes appeared back in the room suddenly, prompting Roy to sit back in an attempt to look calm and cool.

"Scotch, right?" Hushes asked, handing Roy a glass.

"Yep," Roy said, smiling up at Hughes and taking the glass into his own hand. He took a small sip, cringing a bit and partially regretting saying yes. "Thanks."

Hughes sat back down, smiling back at Roy before letting out a sigh and letting his face drop.

"You're alright, Roy, right?"

"Yeah, what do you mean?"

Roy tried to sound as casual as possible. He couldn't give the impression that Hughes had anything to worry about.

"I don't know," Hughes paused, "You just seem antsy, is all."

"I was just worried about you...is all," Roy said. "But, I'm alright, other than that."

"Mmm," Hughes gave in response. "Alright."

Before the air could get too thick, Gracia came into the living room announcing dinner. Hughes and Roy followed her into the dining room; Roy felt almost as if he was moving robotically. His mind was completely occupied by the food he would be eating, rather than his best friend and his wife who so graciously invited Roy into their home and the fact that his best friend was going to stop an uprising essentially on Roy's behalf.

Hughes tended to Elysia, as Roy and Gracia sat down. Gracia put her hand out for Roy's plate, which he warily handed off to her. As she placed food on Roy's plate—steak, potatoes, and bread—Roy felt his stomach doing flips. She looked at Roy.

"Enough?

"Ah..." Roy glanced quickly at Hughes, who was too busy cutting his daughter's food to notice Roy. "Yes, that's enough."

More than enough, Roy added to himself.

Once Hughes was finished with Elysia, he put food on his own plate. Roy's mind immediately went to jealousy at the ease in which Hughes put food on his own plate. Hughes wasn't even thinking about what he was eating, other than probably just looking forward to enjoying it. Roy itched for that feeling desperately. Of course, he was making the choice to keep his weight down, but still, it'd be nice to enjoy a meal with his best friend and his family.

"So, Roy," Gracia turned to him. "How are you?"

"I'm doing good." Roy forced a smile and he knew Gracia could tell it was fake. "I've been quite busy, but other than that I've been well."

Gracia gave a soft chuckle. "I've been quite busy myself, Elysia has recently got into finger-painting and I've been chasing her around so she doesn't finger-paint the walls."

Hearing that, Elysia put her hands in front of her face, embarrassed. Again Roy felt that paternal ache as Hughes smiled down at his daughter. Roy averted his gaze, again feeling a fit of slight jealousy towards Hughes.

As Hughes began to talk about Elysia, Roy allowed himself to be distracted. He mechanically moved his fork from the plate to his mouth and back to the plate. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but try and calculate how long he would have to exercise to work this off. He tried to only pay attention to what Hughes was saying about Elysia.

"Maes, I'm sure you're boring him. I think his eyes are glossing over."

"Oh, please, he loves my stories about Elysia. Isn't that right, Roy?"

Both Elysia and Gracia looked to Roy.

"Of course!" Roy said, "I love it when you interrupt me as I'm trying to do my paperwork."

"Since when did you care about paperwork?"

Elysia muffled a laugh behind her hand. "Maes!"

Similarly to when he was with Hawkeye in the afternoon, Roy felt a sense of normalcy. He felt himself yearning to return back to his normal instead of his new normal (although it wasn't that new). Roy knew that he was pushing Hughes away, but he couldn't help it. He was always inviting Roy for a drink after work or to dinner, and of course, Roy would turn him down. Even if Hughes had only asked if Roy was interested in a simple cup of coffee, Roy feared that he'd end up blurting something out that he'd regret. Hughes (and Hawkeye) had to be kept at somewhat of a distance, even if it made Roy lonely.

"I'll have you know I've finished all my paperwork," Roy said. "Have you?"

"Not exactly...sometimes I just get so distracted by the photos of my family."

Roy rolled his eyes, "And I'm the one who doesn't care about my paperwork."

Hughes laughed and Roy felt that familiar, warm sense of comfort. Though, that only lasted until he looked down at his plate. Did he eat all that? He almost hadn't noticed. Roy felt his stomach roll when he saw his empty plate. It was hard to ignore how much he was eating when he looked away from Hughes' smile and could realize that he'd eaten more at once than he had in several months.

Gracia reached for Roy's plate and he quickly looked up at her.

"Oh? Did you want more?"

"No! No, I've had enough, thank you."

"I'm just gonna clean up, and then we'll have dessert."

"Allow me to help," Roy said, standing and reaching over to clean things off the table.

"Don't be silly," Gracia said. "Why don't you and Maes go into the other room with Elysia?"

Roy looked down to Elysia, who was grinning widely at him. He smiled back.

"Give me one moment, I have to excuse myself. I'll be there in a minute."

Roy left the dining room and went to Hughes' bathroom. He almost felt he could puke when he slammed the door shut behind him. He relieved himself and washed his hands, careful to keep his gaze away from the mirror. Before he left the bathroom, Roy glanced at the toilet briefly.

The urge to throw up his food wasn't a new one, but it was one that went normally dismissed. It seemed to Roy that once he began doing that, there was really a problem. No sane, normal person would ever do such a thing and there wasn't any rational way of explaining it.

Although...perhaps, there would be fewer questions to answer about it. If Roy wasn't eating much, it was extremely obvious (and seemingly increasingly so) that he wasn't, but on the other hand, if Roy were to eat and leave afterward that was less obvious. Roy knew that he would likely put on a bit of weight. It seemed all too tempting to at least try and throw up some of the food at that moment.

No. He wouldn't do that. That road was too difficult to crawl back from.

Roy went into the living room to see Elysia on the floor in front of Hughes' chair. Hughes was so immersed in her that he hadn't noticed when Roy sat down on the couch and announced he was back. He looked up at Roy suddenly and grinned.

"Isn't she the best?"

"Yeah..." Roy said, still thinking of throwing up his food. "What're you playing with there?"

"The doll Daddy got me yesterday," Elysia replied, looking up at Roy then to her father. Roy followed her gaze.

"I can't help myself," Hughes said sheepishly. He scooped Elysia up and placed her on his knee, facing her away from him. "Dinner was good, huh?"

"Of course," Roy said. "Nice to finally sit down to a home-cooked meal."

He wasn't sure if it was a complete lie.

"Hopefully things slow down a bit," Roy added. "But I'm not so sure about that."

Hughes bounced Elysia on his leg, keeping her distracted subtlety. "Right. Still, Roy, you should be taking care of yourself."

"I know, I know. I'm trying to."

"I know," Hughes said, smiling and Roy felt a hot wave of shame. "That's all I can ask, right?"

"Uh..uh-huh..." Roy trailed off, leaving his mouth open. He moved on quickly, feeling guilty. "You need to take care of yourself too."

"I do."

"I mean in Lior."

"Oh, Roy," Hughes slightly widened his eyes and dragged his gaze to Elysia. "You know that's not something to be concerned about."

"That's right. I'm sorry."

"Not sure why you're even worried, Roy," he continued. "I don't think I'll be there for long."

Roy sucked in a quick breath. He hadn't even thought about the fact that even if nothing happened to Hughes and Lior was handled smoothly, he would still be away from his family. Roy's chest ached for Gracia and Elysia, and even for Hughes since he already felt regretful at the lack of family time he had. Roy looked to Elysia, who didn't have a care in the world. But, Hughes not being home was certainly something she'd care deeply about. And if something happened to Hughes? Roy wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself.

"Well—"

"Right?" Hughes asked, again towards Elysia with the same wide eyes. This time a little less subtly telling Roy to drop the topic for now. "Maybe a couple of days."

"Of course. Right."

The two of them went quiet, both of them watching Elysia entertain herself with her doll. Even if Hughes wasn't necessarily concerned about Lior turning into Ishval, Roy couldn't help but wonder if Hughes didn't feel that there was a real danger. Roy realized—late, of course—that Hughes would be concerned about time away from his family, but was that his only concern? Roy knew that since he now expressed his guilt, Hughes would not allow him to be privy to any other concerns.

Now he must be getting a sense of how Hughes himself (and Hawkeye) must be feeling.

"Besides," Hughes started and Roy averted his attention to him. "Everything always turns out alright...isn't that, right?"

Hughes leaned down to look at Elysia's face, who giggled and nodded, and Roy couldn't be sure if she had been listening or not.

It was amazing how much Hughes' face lit up whenever he looked at his daughter; it was nothing Roy had ever seen. He hoped that he'd looked at someone like that. Oh, how nice that would be? For the world to seemingly disappear as you gazed at someone you loved.

Roy was so lonely. The last thing he needed was to be pushing his closest friend away.

Luckily Elysia was there or Roy thought he might spill everything to Hughes, desperate to feel close to him again. He wanted so badly for Hughes to be his shoulder to lean on instead of fearing Hughes being privy to any of his innermost thoughts.

Roy couldn't pin-point exactly when he had begun not allowing Hughes or Hawkeye to be a part of his personal life whatsoever. He had always been a private person, even with Hughes, but he couldn't be sure when it was that it began to feel like the world was him versus everyone else.

"I wanted to ask how your chess game went with General Grumman?" Hughes asked suddenly.

"Hawkeye asked me the same thing earlier...the same way it always ends, with me losing."

Hughes laughed, "One of these days."

"Hawkeye said that too," Roy said. "Every time I think I'm close to winning, he suddenly announces 'checkmate.'"

"You just got to start thinking like him, that's all. You have to thinks two-steps ahead like him."

"I was sure I did..."

"Then three steps ahead."

Roy snorted, "Alright, alright."

The two kept chatting and before long Gracia appeared in the living room again. As Roy made his way to the dining room, trailing behind Hughes and Elysia, he tried to think of how he was going to avoid eating dessert. He could handle dinner fine enough, but dessert was certainly way too much. By the time he got home, Roy would be too tired to work off both dinner and dessert.

"Cherry pie and vanilla ice-cream," Gracia grinned. "Home-made."

"I'm—"

Although Roy had only said the one word before quickly slamming his jaw shut, Hughes and Gracia turned to him instantly. He was trying to rack his brain for an excuse. Lactose intolerance? No, Hughes had seen him pour cream into his coffee countless times (among any other time Roy couldn't remember that Hughes would've seen him have dairy). Perhaps he could say he just wasn't in the mood? Like Hughes would just take that at face value. Think, Roy, willed himself, think—

"I'm allergic to cherries, actually," Roy said, feigning remorse. "Ah, I'm sorry."

Gracia frowned, "Oh, that's too bad."

"I didn't know that," Hughes said, sitting down. And then, echoing his wife, "That's too bad."

"Maybe just some ice-cream then?"

Roy swallowed. "Sure."

That was better than the alternative, Roy supposed. He was tempted to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Gracia doled out dessert and coffee (and milk for Elysia) and finally sat down herself. Roy felt badly realizing how much work Gracia had put into dinner and dessert. Of course, it wasn't only for Roy since she didn't even know he was coming until an hour before he did, but Roy couldn't help the heavy feeling in his chest.

"Oh, it's really too bad you can't eat this, Roy," Hughes said around a mouthful of pie. "It's very good!"

"Yeah..." Roy said, his mouth hanging open. "Too bad."

What Roy wouldn't give to live life like Hughes.

He could drop this whole thing right now. He could eat more and gain weight if he wanted to, but he didn't. Even though he was making the choice to eat small meals and keep his weight low, it still felt terrible to lie to avoid eating. He didn't have to do that, he knew that. If what Roy was doing wasn't problematic then he wouldn't have to evade friends' concerns. Wanting to manage his weight and...this was two different things.

What was he doing then? Keeping how weight low, or managing anxiety towards gaining weight? Roy hadn't started carefully monitoring his food intake always and he hadn't even started doing it to lose weight. So, why had he started doing it in the first place?

Roy wasn't even paying attention to the conversation between Hughes and his wife. He was putting the ice-cream in his mouth and swallowing, keeping his head bowed. It barely felt like he was eating the ice-cream, more so putting it in his stomach. He didn't even sip his coffee, let alone fix it. He was stuck between wanting to finish and not wanting to eat it whatsoever. He obviously wasn't interested in eating something he didn't need; at least with dinner, Roy could tell himself that he needed it after feeling dizzy all day. On the other hand, Roy wanted nothing more than to just be alone and free to be anxious.

"Roy? Are you listening?"

He looked up at the now-empty bowl. "No," he said. "Sorry."

Hughes waved his hand, "Forget it. Wasn't that interesting anyway."

An awkward pause.

"Is that the time?" Roy asked, looking towards the clock but not taking the time to see what time it was. "I really should be going."

All of them said their good-byes and suddenly Roy was alone in his car. Finally.

The entire drive home, Roy debated whether or not he would exercise before he went to bed. He had told himself before leaving central command that he wasn't going to worry about what he was eating or his weight the entire time, and in a way exercising beforehand already went against that. Well, there were moments he did feel himself relax, if only briefly, and be able to enjoy himself, so he did do what he had set out to do to the best of his abilities.

It was all so confusing. Eating was nothing to be anxious about, so why couldn't Roy do it without screaming internally? He just wanted to be able to eat normally like everyone else. But he could, right? He was in control of his eating habits. At any time he could confide in Hughes and Hawkeye and stop all of this. Roy could just open up to them and explain his anxiety towards food and the want to keep his weight low.

Maybe he wasn't in as much control as he thought.

Although Roy went to bed without exercising, he woke up earlier than usual to exercise longer than he usually did. He felt guilty for doing that like he was somehow lying to Hughes by doing it.

* * *

When Roy was on his way to work the following day, his mind drifted to Private Zell. How did that meeting go, after that had their physicals? Roy hadn't even bothered speaking to the Fuhrer himself out of the fear that he would be able to tell Roy was lying about why he wasn't going. Although, he wasn't the one lying per se...

Roy assumed that if the doctor hadn't seen a change in Roy's weight—his weight going up—then he would take action towards it. He couldn't exactly figure out why the doctor wasn't going to bring up Roy's weight and only disclose Roy's low blood pressure. Fuhrer Bradley (and other superiors of Roy) had the right to know Roy's medical history and his doctor's concerns. Anybody below him, Roy still had the right to not disclose his medical history if he didn't want to. So, considering that, Private Zell (or any in Roy's team or Hughes) wouldn't know about the doctor's concern about Roy's weight and not going to Lior for that reason.

As he walked to his office, Roy felt an odd calm. He could at least know that Private Zell wouldn't hear anything about his weight. Even if Hughes were to talk to Hawkeye (which was more than probable), Roy was comfortable with Hawkeye thinking he had turned Lior down.

The calm barely lasted until Roy sat down at his desk. Hughes had appeared in the office and Roy felt his heart jump in his throat. Roy couldn't help his face, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

"What the hell's with that face, Roy?"

Hughes and Private Zell! How hadn't he thought of that! Hughes and Private Zell surely would talk about why Roy wasn't in Lior, even if in an off-hand exchange. Hughes would find out about Roy lying, and it wouldn't even be from Roy's own mouth.

"I-" Roy forced a laugh. "A leg cramp."

Hughes laughed, "Well—"

"Sorry!" Roy jumped to his feet. "I have to go, I think I left my car running."

Before Hughes could even think of a reply, Roy slipped out from behind his desk and quickly left the room. He made his way to the office he believed Private Zell to be in (similar to Roy's team, Private Zell had a desk in someone else's office) and almost burst through the door. He took a breath and opened the door slowly.

It was empty.

Roy gave a strangled grunt and slammed the door before opening it and leaving. He tried to stay calm as he made his way back to his office, keeping his head down so as to not alert anyone to ask him what was wrong. From how hot his face felt, Roy knew his face must be burning bright.

Suddenly, Roy bumped into someone and tried to move on as quickly as possible.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, in case they were his superior. He slipped past them. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Colonel Mustang?"

Roy turned around quickly.

"Private Zell! I was just going to talk to you."

"O-Oh?"

"I need to confess something to you," Roy said quietly. "Come to my office?"

Private Zell nodded.

Roy would've just gone to the nearest available empty room, which he knew was the office in which Private Zell's desk was in, but he needed time to think. The walk back to his office was spent trying to find a way to explain the situation and also explain why he was lying. Perhaps he could explain that he didn't want to admit to not wanting to go to Lior out of shame and that the low blood-pressure thing was just an excuse. Though, Roy wasn't sure if that he was completely in the clear because he wasn't sure what Hughes and he would talk about. Hughes would probably think that lying about a medical concern (or the effect of it, at least) instead of admitting he stood up for himself was out of Roy's character if Private Zell were to bring their previous conversation up to Hughes.

Lying about standing up for himself instead of admitting a medical concern seemed to fit right in his character though.

Maybe he was putting too much thought into this. Either way, Roy felt screwed on at least one end. He'd rather have it be on Private Zell's over Hughes'.

Once Roy got back to his office, he saw Hughes was still there. He made a small motion with his hand for everyone in the room to leave.

"Give me five minutes," Roy said. "Then come back."

Within only a couple of moments, it was the same situation as yesterday with him and Zell alone in his office. They awkwardly made their way to Roy's desk and sat down.

"I know that I told you that I wasn't going to Lior because of the doctor's concern with my low blood pressure."

"Yes?" Zell asked dubiously. "What about it?"

"I wasn't completely honest about it," Roy said firmly. "It's not untrue, but I'm making the choice not to go to Lior."

"Doc gave you the okay, but you're not going because of it...? Sir, I don't think I understand."

"Evidently," Roy mumbled. "No, I am making the choice not to go because I don't agree with the fuhrer."

Private Zell opened his mouth but closed it quickly and cocked his head. He narrowed his eyes at Roy, which made Roy uncomfortable. He couldn't read his face whatsoever.

"Understood, sir." Private Zell stood up and saluted. He turned on his heels and walked out of Roy's office. Roy blinked at Zell's back lamely, wanting to call out his name but keeping his mouth shut.

What the hell was that about, Roy thought to himself. Was Zell angry with him? Roy felt a little badly at that, but it still felt relieved that Hughes wouldn't figure out that he was lying by Private Zell having a different story from Roy. That's what he was most concerned about.

Perhaps Zell did feel as though Roy left him out to dry like Roy was originally worried about when he first told Zell he wasn't going. He supposed Zell felt differently knowing Roy was making the decision himself not to go, which was true and untrue at the same time.

If Roy wasn't going to get his weight up in a few weeks and go back to the doctor, then for a definite fact, he was making the choice not to go to Lior.

Roy pressed his hand to his temple, feeling a headache blooming. He used the few minutes he had alone to close his eyes and calm his nerves. Still feeling a little antsy after his conversation with Private Zell, Roy breathed in and out slowly in an attempt to regain his composure. Before he could get everything out of his system, the office door barged open.

"Colonel!"

It was Ed. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that.

He heard Hawkeye call Ed's name as she followed him into the office.

"Sorry, Colonel," she said, "I told him you were in the middle of something."

"It's alright, Lieutenant." Roy put his hand up as if to resign to Ed. "What is it, Fullmetal?"

"Why wasn't I told about Lior going to hell?" he cried. "I'd like to think someone would've told me."

"Fuhrer Bradley only just had a meeting with me about it two days ago," Roy spat. "I was going to tell you about it—"

"When?"

"I don't know!" Roy pulled himself up and braced his hands on his desk. "You found out about it anyway, why are you coming to me about it? It doesn't concern you."

"Doesn't concern me? Did you forget that I—" Ed cut himself off suddenly and eyed Roy. "You look awful, Colonel."

Roy looked to the lieutenant, who averted her gaze almost instantly. She was standing behind Ed holding a binder close to her chest. Roy directed his attention back to Ed, heaving a heavy sigh.

"Edward, why are you here?"

"Because Lior is in shambles because of me," Ed admitted quietly. "What happened there?"

Roy thought back to what Private Zell had said about Lior. They were peaceful and had hope even if it was under a false guise. Before Zell had said that, Roy alluded (and then confirmed what he meant) that it was Ed's doing of disturbing the peace. He hadn't thought Ed had done something wrong, but he was someone who worked for the military (going on military business, technically, to Lior) so he really pushed the blame on the military. Roy didn't think it was the military's job to smother an uprising that wasn't directly against them, even if they disturbed the peace. Ed was doing the right thing despite the uprisings being a consequence of that.

"The people are revolting against the church," Roy replied. "Fuhrer Bradley wants us to go down there to smother the riots."

"Us?" Ed echoed. "Who's going? You?"

Roy looked to Hawkeye again briefly. "No. I'm not going."

"You weren't asked to go?"

The office had filled up again (minus Hughes) when Roy took a look around. He stood up straight, no longer eye-to-eye with Ed.

"Let's take a walk, shall we?"

Ed looked up at Roy, obviously confused. Despite that, he complied, following Roy outside of his office. Roy waited until they were in a more quiet part of the hallway. He stopped walking and turned to Ed.

"You couldn't have known, Ed," he said. "What were you supposed to do? Allow people to keep being fooled? Come on."

"I didn't mean for them to start rioting."

"Of course you didn't. Listen, they're not revolting against us so I don't think we should be there." Roy took a pause, taking a moment to produce the lie. "That's why I'm not going."

"What?" A laugh erupted from Ed. "You told that to Fuhrer Bradley?"

Another moment. "Yes."

Ed gave Roy a shove, "Well, well, well...guess you're less of a boot-licker than I thought!"

Roy rolled his eyes. "Point is, it's not your fault, Ed. At least not entirely."

Ed's face fell, along with his shoulders. He folded his arms defensively and Roy didn't know if he wanted to laugh or puke by how similar he and Ed could be at times. It was obvious to Roy that Ed was going to dismiss the issue still thinking he was at fault.

"Alright, fine. Whatever."

There was an awkward pause.

"So what the hell's up with you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You look like crap, Colonel," Ed said bluntly. "What's going on?"

"I don't...I don't look that bad." Roy mirrored Ed subconsciously by also folding his arms. "And that's no way to talk to a superior, Fullmetal."

"Gimme a break, will ya?" Ed waved his hand. "I was just asking if things were alright."

Roy laughed, "That's your way of asking that?"

"Clearly you're fine," Ed mumbled. "You're as irritating as usual...are we done here?"

"Yeah, we're done here," Roy said. "Please don't feel like this is your fault."

"I'm just gonna hope things go smoothly."

"You and me, Ed."

Roy hadn't felt like he got through to Ed as much as he would've like to. Because of what the situation was, Roy wasn't sure if he could ever get it through to Ed that it wasn't his fault. Ed hadn't done something selfishly, so he shouldn't be taking the burden onto himself.

The two made their way back to Roy's office. The entire time Ed poking Roy in his side, teasing him over everything and anything. Every time Ed's hand or elbow went to Roy's side, Roy couldn't help but cringe. He tried his best not to alert Ed as to their being something wrong but at the same time, he wanted him to stop desperately.

Roy knew he was looking haggard lately, but it hadn't thought it was bad enough for everyone to take notice of. Those around him could notice his weight loss and even mention it to him, but that hadn't been as direct as Ed had been. He wondered if maybe everyone had noticed that instead—how thin and tired his face looked—opposed to his actual weight loss.

"I'm going to talk to Lieutenant Hughes, you coming?"

"No, you go ahead."

Ed shrugged and Roy went back into his office. Fortunately, it wasn't too awkward, considering his team most likely knew what he was talking to Ed about (even if Roy had only told Hawkeye himself). When Roy sat at his desk, almost instantly Hawkeye was at his side.

"Sir," she said quietly in his ear. "Did you talk with Lieutenant Hughes?"

"Yes, I did."

"Colonel, I—"

"You don't think it's my fault, I know."

"Oh..." she trailed off. "You believe that? That it's not your fault?"

Roy turned his head to look at Hawkeye, their faces only an inch or so away from each other. He shifted uncomfortably. It almost felt like Hawkeye could look into Roy's eyes and learn all of his darkest secrets, and stupidly Roy didn't want to look away because he didn't want her to think he had something to hide. He knew for a fact though that she was trying to read his face. Hawkeye would narrow her eyes in the slightest way possible whenever she was trying to see what someone was thinking.

Did Roy believe that? No, he did not. Hughes was going to Lior as a direct consequence of Roy not going, even if Roy wasn't actively deciding not to go to Lior.

"Yes," Roy lied. "Hughes told me he didn't blame me and I believe that."

"Alright, sir. I just know this is probably hard on you."

"Hard on me?" he asked. "Don't you think it's harder on Hughes?"

"I didn't mean it like that, sir," Hawkeye said. Then, "You know that."

Roy sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

Hawkeye stood up straight. "I'm sure everything will go smoothly."

Roy nodded and the lieutenant walked back to her desk.

Hopefully, everything would go smoothly. Was that too much to ask?

* * *

By the time Monday rolled around, every time Roy stood up he thought he was going to faint. He felt so anxious about Hughes going to Lior, he couldn't stomach eating anything. The past few days he had only eaten a small salad for lunch. He hadn't even had coffee in the morning.

On top of that, and perhaps the real reason he hadn't been able to eat almost anything, it was the one thing that Roy could do to calm his nerves. By exercising in the morning and again at night whilst only having a salad during the day, Roy felt (even partially) that maybe he had some control of what was going on.

Every morning the past few days, Hughes came into Roy's office in the morning (per usual) and blabbed about his family. Roy listened without complaint.

Roy called Hughes Monday morning but he hadn't reached him.

"Oh, Roy, he left only a few minutes ago," Gracia said. "He had to be at the train station."

"That's...too bad," Roy rasped. "I thought I would call him before he left."

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

The drive to work that morning was rough since Roy was too distracted. He pulled over a few times, trying to collect himself.

Hawkeye was all over him when he got to the office.

"Colonel, a lot of paperwork came for you this morning. I'll help you with it."

"I can handle it myself, Lieutenant." Roy almost collapsed onto his desk chair. "Let me alone for a few minutes, please."

Wordlessly, Hawkeye put the stack of paperwork onto Roy's desk and went to her own desk. Roy opened the first file, his eyes moving over the paper but not reading the words.

Roy put his head in his hands, not even thinking about what his subordinates would think of him.

If something were to happen to Hughes, Roy could never forgive himself. Even the fact that Hughes had to be away from his family was eating at Roy. Elysia and Gracia would be left without anyone. Oh, that hurt. It would be all Roy's fault if that happened.

Now Roy was making the decision not to go to Lior. He wasn't eating more (quite the opposite) and wasn't making a true attempt to either. The doctor had told him that if he got his weight up, then he could see about going to Lior again.

Although, he said in a few weeks. Would the Lior uprisings even last that long?

Maybe if Roy was showing an attempt to put on weight, the doctor would allow him ago.

The worst thing about all this was Roy knew that he wasn't going to try and put on weight. Even with his best friend, who was a husband and a father, went to Lior in his place, he still wouldn't attempt to gain weight to try and help him. And, it was Roy's fault he was there in the first place! It was because of Roy's own faults that Hughes was in Lior.

Guilt gnawed at his insides. He felt so guilty and yet he couldn't talk himself into putting on weight. Surely he wasn't in control of this. If he was, he would've been able to put on weight, or at least try to, if he was truly in control of his weight.

Roy stood up suddenly.

"Colonel?" Havoc looked up from his desk. "Are you okay, you're white as a sheet."

"I'm...fine..."

Hawkeye rose from her seat and was back at his desk. Havoc followed right behind her.

"Colonel?" she asked.

"I'm alright," he rasped. "I just need to..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Roy's eyes rolled back. He fell back onto his chair and then to the cold floor.

"Colonel!"


	6. Feint

Roy blinked himself awake only to be staring at a white ceiling. He could hear the mumbling voices of who he knew to be Havoc, Hawkeye, and another voice that sounded familiar but Roy couldn't quite place. Mostly it was Havoc and the other voice going back and forth, Hawkeye having said one thing. Without moving his head, Roy looked over to where the voices were coming from and he saw the last voice belonged to the doctor who did his physical. He quickly shut his eyes and tried to listen to their conversation.

"Why don't you get some food in him?" the doctor spat. "You just let him drop like that?"

"Let him?" Havoc asked. "I'm sure the colonel can handle himself."

"Clearly not," Roy heard the doctor say. Then a soft scoff from Havoc and Roy recognized the sound as the doctor taking his cigarette. He almost laughed to himself. "You think that's handling himself?"

Hawkeye was being considerably quiet. Roy was close to opening his eyes again for a peek at her disposition, but he decided against it, fearing that she might be looking towards him.

Havoc hadn't responded and Roy heard the door whine open.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," the doctor said. "Excuse me."

Roy waited until the door clicked shut to open his eyes. He feigned a groan, acting as if he just came to, and pulled himself up.

"Colonel," Hawkeye said softly and was at his side in an instant. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Roy moved his legs and sat at the side of the bed. "I fainted?"

"Yes, sir."

Havoc moved past Roy's bed and near the window, taking out another cigarette and opening the window to smoke out of.

"You went all pale and then just fell back," he said. "Are you eating alright?"

"I'm fine, Havoc—"

"That's not what I asked," Havoc interrupted. He turned to look at Roy and then quickly averted his eyes, looking out the window. "I asked if you were eating alright."

"No," Roy admitted. "I've been worried sick about Hughes. I haven't had an appetite lately."

It hadn't been a complete lie, but Roy was aware that Hawkeye would think that it was. Havoc only frowned, nodding and taking a drag out of his cigarette, as Roy saw out of the corner of his eye. He was too focused on Hawkeye, trying to see what she made of all this. She kept her arms folded and Roy thought it almost looked like she was hugging herself.

"Lieutenant—"

She looked up and then quickly to the door as it opened. The doctor was back, wearing a thin, grim frown. He seemed more irritated than concerned about Roy.

"Give us some privacy, eh?"

Hawkeye and Havoc shared a glance and left wordlessly. Roy stared at the door, wishing they hadn't left. Perhaps the doctor would be less harsh if someone else was in the room. The doctor sat down on the chair by Roy's bed. He crossed his legs and look at his clipboard casually. He was silent for a few moments and Roy sat waiting, feeling as if he was about to get a shot.

"I'm going to give you a chance to explain yourself, Colonel Mustang," he said. "Go ahead."

"I don't have to explain myself to you. I don't owe you a reason for fainting."

"No, you don't." The doctor looked up at Roy. "But I find it odd that you don't want to give me one. Not embarrassed, Mustang? Don't wanna throw an excuse in my face?"

There was a touch of heat in his cheeks, anger blooming there. He couldn't understand why the doctor was already jumping on the offense. Understandably he wanted answers, but did he have to ask in such a way? In a way that made Roy feel like he was going to start getting defensive?

"There isn't an excuse," Roy said. "You and I both know why I fainted."

"We do? And why's that?"

He had to bite his lip, almost about to blurt out that he had hardly been eating. It clearly wasn't the only thing stopping him from telling the doctor, but he had no idea how the doctor would react if Roy had openly admitted to trying to manage his weight by avoiding eating much. Surely he had some suspicions—which the doctor proved by suggesting a psychiatrist the last time the two spoke—and fainting probably only served to prove them. Still, would the doctor grow soft at Roy's admission or harden up even further?

"Roy, I told you to get your weight up last time I saw you," the doctor said finally. "Why haven't you done as I asked?"

"It's hardly been a week! Surely you can't expect me to—"

"Start eating better?"

Again Roy was stumped; he wasn't sure how to counter that. He wasn't even making an attempt to eat better. In fact, the past few days he had done the exact opposite. There wasn't an excuse—because that's what it would be— that the doctor would accept that Roy could think of. The doctor was already prepared for a lie, looking uncomfortably at his clipboard so he didn't have to watch Roy strain himself to think of something.

"I'll be honest with you," Roy started and the doctor looked up instantly. "I've been feeling..."

The doctor leaned forward, subtly nodding Roy along.

"Depressed," Roy finished. "I've been panicked these few days...a very good friend is taking my place in Lior."

"Roy, I—"

"I'm not trying to get you to give me an okay to go," said Roy. "I'm only saying that because I worry for him because he has a family."

And because you're riddled with guilt over lying about it, Roy added to himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the doctor said uneasily. "I thought you were going to say...never mind. I didn't know you've been feeling like that."

"It's rather embarrassing."

The doctor's face softened and Roy started to begin to feel a little uneasy himself. He again looked at his clipboard, his hand itching to write something, and looked up again but not at Roy.

"It's not embarrassing, Roy," he said. Roy noticed the doctor had gone back to using his first name. "You needn't feel like that. Though, as I suggested last time, I think you should be speaking to a psychiatrist."

"I'm not sure how comfortable I am with that," Roy admitted, which wasn't a lie.

"I understand that. What troubles me, though, is how much weight you've lost. It's very concerning. Not to mention you fainting just before."

Roy wasn't sure if this was the route he should be taking, but he also wasn't sure if it was worse than admitting the truth. Though, at the admission of something being wrong, the doctor grew more understanding. Perhaps if Roy was, to be honest...?

He wasn't sure he was ready to relinquish himself to the doctor yet, or anyone else for that matter. He knew that someone becoming privy to everything—whether it was the doctor, Hawkeye, Hughes, or even Havoc—was inevitable and that he was just delaying it. Realistically there was no way to keep going forever, and Roy wasn't sure if he was thankful for that or worried about it. If someone were to know and keep an eye on him, Roy would lose all sense of control over himself. Moreover, if he had wanted to continue what he was doing and someone were to know (explicitly so), it would only mean jumping through more hoops to hide what he was doing.

The fact that he had to hide was doing was more than enough reason to confide in someone. He knew what he was doing was wrong and even that it was affecting the lives of those around him, but there was something so comforting about being in control of his weight. Although, with the fear that came from eating and how Roy was still too fearful to put on weight even after it had affected his career and Hughes' life, it was hardly true to say that he was in control and he was aware of that too.

"I know, I know. I haven't been able to eat much this past weekend like I said—"

"A close friend is going to Lior, you said." The doctor paused for a few moments. "Roy, is this the truth?"

Roy could only open his mouth before the doctor continued.

"Because if it's not, I implore you, to tell the truth to me right now."

Again, Roy opened his mouth again to speak but the doctor continued further.

"Tell you what, Roy," he said, "Go home. Eat something and get some rest, okay? We'll talk more in a few days."

"Okay," Roy rasped. "Sure."

"Alright?" The doctor pulled himself up to his feet and gave Roy's thigh a supportive tap. "Try not to worry about your friend and take care of yourself."

"Right, right."

And just like that, with a soft smile, the doctor left the room. Roy waited a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts, before leaving.

The doctor must've known he was lying or he wouldn't have asked. Though, maybe he thought Roy was only lying about something, not the something he was lying about. He debated going back to his office as if nothing happened and staying the rest of the day, but with how poorly he felt, he wasn't going to turn down being able to go home and rest.

When he was back in the office, everyone was quiet. No one dared to speak to him, even Hawkeye could only look at him briefly before ducking her head back down. Roy grabbed his coat and went to his lieutenant's desk.

"I'm leaving for the day, Lieutenant," Roy said quietly, leaning down to get closer to her. "I might be gone tomorrow as well."

"Okay, sir," she said, without turning her head. "Please make sure to eat something."

"Right. I know."

Roy waited a moment for Hawkeye to reply but she hadn't. He stood up and made his way out of the office, giving Havoc's shoulder a squeeze as he slipped past him. When he closed the office door behind him, he let out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

Once he was home, Roy was too tired to even think so he fell onto the couch and fell asleep in his uniform.

* * *

Havoc waited until the office door shut completely to rush back to Hawkeye's desk. They had been talking before Mustang came in and Havoc had to bolt back to his seat when they could hear the colonel's footsteps almost right outside the door.

"Should one of us go over there?" he asked. "To make sure he eats?"

"I'm not sure," Hawkeye said. "I'd like to imagine that he could do it himself..."

"But?"

"But I don't know if I could trust him to."

Havoc only suggested it because he thought Mustang might not have an appetite and would simply doze off when he got home; it wasn't necessarily that he didn't trust the colonel to eat. When the colonel had fainted, Havoc wasn't sure what to think. He had known that the colonel wasn't taking care of himself properly and he seemed especially distracted the past few days. Havoc thought he was overworked, but Hawkeye seemed to be thinking something else.

"Why's that, Lieutenant?"

Hawkeye looked up at him with tightened lips and she looked as if she didn't want to answer.

"Don't answer that," he said. "It's alright. Whatever it is can stay between you the colonel."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Havoc stood in front of her desk lamely, stuck between wanting to know more about the colonel out of worry and not wanting to pry. Though he figured if it was something he needed to know, he would.

"I'll stop by after I leave," she said, going back to her paperwork. "I'll make sure he's alright."

"Let me know how it goes?"

She looked up briefly at him with a small smile, "Alright."

With this, Havoc went back to his desk. He could tell Breda was itching to turn to him and ask what the hell was up with Mustang but he hadn't. Fuery and Falman were talking quietly between themselves; Falman simply leaning over to Fuery and speaking quietly and Fuery nodding and quietly replying. Presumably, it was about Mustang, but Havoc wasn't going to listen in and see.

The colonel had been acting quite strange the past few days. Not only was he overly preoccupied, but what Havoc found the oddest was every time Hughes came in the past few days, he and Mustang had no banter. Hughes would go on and on—and on and on—about his wife and daughter and Mustang just allowed him to. The colonel has always told Hughes to knock it off or wave his hand dismissively, but he hadn't done that the past few days. Havoc knew that he must be feeling poorly about Hughes going to Lior, so perhaps he was listening as a sort of...repentance? Havoc wasn't the brightest, but he knew that the colonel not going to Lior was the cause of Hughes going to Lior and he knew the colonel probably wasn't feeling the best about that.

It explained why Mustang wasn't eating the best, but it didn't explain why Hawkeye didn't trust the colonel to eat by himself. Maybe there was more to him losing weight than Havoc had originally thought, or maybe he was feeling worse than Havoc thought. Havoc didn't know for sure and there was a chance that he wouldn't ever know for sure.

Whatever it was going on, Havoc would try his best to be there for his superior. He at least knew that for sure.

* * *

When Roy woke up, for a slight instant, he felt panic. He had briefly forgotten he was sent home and that it wasn't time for work in the morning. His first thought was to call Hughes, which obviously went ignored. After that, he thought to exercise (given the extra time by being home) but when he rose from the couch, he fell right back down. Roy put a hand to his head, feeling immensely dizzy, and thought maybe he should eat something.

As Roy prepared himself something to eat, he began to feel a dull sense of dread in his belly. Not only at the meal he was about to eat, but also at the fact that he knew the rouse was almost up. Roy could no longer pretend as if he was just busy because no one would believe it anymore. Roy figured Hawkeye probably hadn't even believed in the first place. No, he knew that she hadn't believed it. She had confronted him about his eating and even admitted to believing he had an eating disorder directly to his face. She was waiting patiently for him to break, and Roy was already starting to crack under her suspicions.

When Roy had first begun to take such control of his diet, they had been out of Ishval for a few years. Roy often couldn't help but wonder if he'd have the same relationship with food had he not been in Ishval.

Although he knew it wasn't true, at times it felt like Roy was the only one carrying guilt from Ishval. All the other soldiers appeared to be much better at handling the horrors of the war. Roy felt alone in his constant guilt over his actions, especially when he compared himself to Hawkeye or Hughes.

The only time Hawkeye had opened up about her feelings towards the war was when she asked Roy to burn the tattoo her father had put on her back. Roy begrudgingly complied but was unwilling to burn it off completely when he heard Hawkeye biting back screams after he started. She had turned around, begging him to finish but Roy assured her it was burnt enough so that it was illegible. That hadn't been completely true.

Other than that, the only time Roy got a glimpse of her feelings was when he spotted her making a grave in Ishval, which was before they had even left (and before she asked him to burn off the tattoo). Roy had found it incredibly heartbreaking and later tried to commend the lieutenant for it only for her to shake her head slightly as she closed her eyes, which Roy knew meant to let it go.

Hughes purposefully ignored any feelings of guilt. He simply swallowed it and pretended as if nothing happened. There was only one instance Roy remembered (surely he'd remember if there were another) where Hughes allowed his mask to slip and he revealed his inner turmoil.

The two had been at a bar, both laughing about the academy. The conversation was light and Roy remembered feeling a nice, warm buzz. Hughes had been drinking more quickly than Roy and Roy remembered that Hughes had also drunk significantly more than him as well.

Feeling a little nostalgic, Roy had brought up the time Hughes stood in a tent with Roy as he tried to process what he'd done, and he instantly regretted it when Hughes' face dimmed and he let his head fall.

"I remember what you said to me that night," Roy rambled, not able to help himself. "That you would swallow every bad thing to be able to look at that woman you love and smile."

Roy had always remembered wondering if perhaps he found someone he loved the way Hughes loved Gracia, he'd be able to do the same. Though, as he got older, he found that was maybe only him only being hopeful.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm a bad person and I'm just stifling it," Hughes had said quietly, so quietly Roy had to ask him to repeat it. He followed it with, "It's as if I'm just pretending to be a good person."

"Look at me."

It felt like it took hours for Hughes to look up at Roy. When Hughes' eyes met his own, the rest of the bar, the rest of the world, disappeared.

"Why would you say that?"

Hughes rubbed at his chin. He hadn't started keeping a beard yet. "I don't know," he said. "I only wonder what Elysia would think of me if she knew."

"She thinks the world of you, she always will."

Hughes had only given a small hum in reply before sipping his drink. Roy watched as Hughes worked his jaw, trying to produce a more articulate response.

"I still think the world of you."

Roy had said quietly, so quietly Hughes had to ask him to repeat it, but Roy had been too embarrassed to say it again. He had kicked himself for so long for not repeating himself. The seven words were stuck in his throat and Roy had been choking on them ever since. It would've made Hughes feel better to hear him say that, and Roy knew that, but his pride had gotten in the way.

"I wonder if she'd be able to look at me and swallow everything I've done," Hughes said then. "I wonder if Gracia thinks less of me for Ishval...if she'd think me a better man if I left, or wasn't there in the first place."

"Hughes, she knew you were a soldier when she starting dating you. Not mention that she married you after Ishval."

And then the conversation was over with a dismissive wave of Hughes' hand.

Roy was never one to pry but maybe he should've been.

When the two left the bar, Hughes had an arm draped around Roy as they walked out as Roy was carrying most of his weight. Roy asked if Hughes had wanted to sleep at his apartment considering how inebriated he was. Hughes had declined, much to Roy's dejection, and had taken a taxicab home. Roy drove himself home, not having had as much to drink as Hughes. After that night, Hughes never brought up that conversation again and Roy didn't ask.

Roy always had mixed feelings about that night. He was pleased that Hughes had opened up (even if it was because of the alcohol) but seeing that part of Hughes always made Roy feel poorly. Roy was aware that while Hughes wasn't faking his personality or warmth, he was still holding a lot of pain in his heart than went unspoken.

There wasn't anyone else that Roy was even remotely close enough to divulge his feelings about Lior to. He felt uneasy about confiding in Hughes and Hawkeye since they seemed evasive about the subject already.

Roy felt himself move away from the food he was making and towards the bottle of scotch on the high shelf.

* * *

Hawkeye allowed herself to be busied with her paperwork for the rest of the day. She decided not to worry about the colonel until it was time to check up on him at his home. She kept to herself the rest of the day, even as the rest of Mustang's team began to laugh and joke as the air in the room got a little less thick.

It was hard not to worry about the colonel, especially so now. Although she still had her suspicions about his eating habits, she did think perhaps he hadn't been lying about not having an appetite because of his worry for Hughes. Considering he had made the choice not to go which put the weight of Lior on Hughes' shoulders, it wasn't unlikely for that to be true. The thing that worried Hawkeye mostly about that was if he didn't have an appetite, he was probably nothing but elated about that.

She couldn't help but feel bad for Havoc since he seemed so out of the loop, but Hawkeye wasn't sure if she was even in the loop concerning the colonel these days. Hughes, on the other hand, seemed to at least be privy to something that was going on in the colonel's head. At least it seemed that the colonel had talked to him about Lior more than he did with her.

Whether or not Hughes agreed with Hawkeye's suspicions about the colonel's eating, she wasn't sure. If he did, he hadn't said so.

When the two had talked after she went to lunch with the colonel, she had mentioned that the colonel didn't eat much. She had also mentioned that the colonel said he was distracted because the two had gotten into an argument, and that's what Hughes seemed more concerned about. He had told her to and try not to worry about the colonel's eating as much as she was because eventually, the colonel was going to confide in one of them. Although she would be pleased whether it was her or Hughes the colonel confided in since that would mean knowing for sure and helping him, she couldn't help but cross her fingers and hope it was her.

She had tried not to worry too much about the colonel, as Hughes said, but after he fainted, waiting around wasn't an option anymore.

On her way to the colonel's house, she had to decide how she was going to handle the situation. She wasn't sure if she was going to confront him or attempt to get him to confess on—what he would think to be—his own accord. The colonel was tricky with secrets, sometimes backing him into a corner was the only way to get him to open up, and sometimes it did the exact opposite of what Hawkeye wanted to do.

What was she expecting him to say? That he was trying to lose weight by not eating anything? Part of her began to think it was impossible that he would ever admit to that. Moreover, if that wasn't the truth, what would be? Did the colonel have a health problem he wanted to keep private, one that was causing him to lose weight?

Pushing him into a corner in an attempt to get him to open up no longer seemed like a viable option, but Hawkeye couldn't be sure just yet.

Hawkeye stepped out of her car with a lump in her throat. She slowly made her way to his front door, stalling entering as much as possible.

She had her own key but she decided to knock on the door instead; she didn't want to barge in on him. Though, after she knocked, waited a few moments, then knocked again, and waited a few moments again, she began to get antsy. Hawkeye waited for a few more moments, shifting her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably, before deciding to use her key.

"Colonel?" She called after taking a step inside. "Hello?"

Scanning the front room, she could see the colonel was not there. His car was outside, though, so he had to be inside his house. Hawkeye took a look around and found food on the kitchen counter that only seemed in the process of being made. Perhaps he made himself food and never cleaned up?

Before she could get a chance to knock on his bedroom door, she heard a soft groan from the other side. She heard the colonel lift himself off his bed and make his way to the bedroom door. Hawkeye opened it first.

"Lieutenant," he slurred. "What're doing here?"

The colonel still had his uniform on, though his jacket had been undone. It was still hard to see underneath the jacket though, but she could see the top buttons of his shirt had also been undone.

"I'm here to make sure you eat," she said plainly. "Have you done that?"

"No." Roy slipped past her and made his way to his couch. She followed him, taking notice of an empty bottle on his bedside. "I was going to...but I didn't."

"Why not?"

He fell onto his couch. "I didn't feel like it."

Hawkeye sat next to him, "Colonel, I—"

"Tell me," said the colonel. He leaned on her and turned his head to her with a look of desperation. "Are you lonely, Lieutenant?"

Before she could hold it back, Hawkeye let out a small gasp. She looked at Roy, her lips still slightly parted, and then averted her gaze. Hawkeye couldn't be sure why the colonel would ask her something like that. Still, she couldn't help but think about the answer.

Hawkeye had always enjoyed being alone. Though there were times where she thought of having a husband and children, that life just didn't seem like one for her. Even though she arrived home from a long day to an empty apartment (save for her dog, of course) she rarely found herself lonely. She had friends, the rest of the colonel's team, and most importantly, the colonel himself. Though, as of late, when she arrived home, she did feel a sad sense of solitude. It was almost as if the colonel wasn't in her life the same way. As if she was only his adjutant and otherwise not thought of by the colonel; as if she was no longer his confidant.

When the two had gone to lunch, it almost felt as if they were playing pretend, only acting how they used to be. The colonel dispensed his lines and the lieutenant dispensed hers.

She wondered if Roy felt the same.

"No," she replied quietly, returning her gaze to the colonel. "Are you?"

The colonel gave a small moan in reply, shifting himself so that his legs were up on the couch. He grabbed ahold of her shoulders with shaky hands.

"Start a family with me, Lieutenant," he said.

"What?" Hawkeye unceremoniously removed his hands from her shoulders. "Colonel, are you feeling well?"

"No," he said. "I'm so tired..."

Hawkeye stood up, gently allowing the colonel to lay on the couch. She removed his shoes and went for his jacket.

"How much do you weigh?"

She stopped suddenly.

"160-something, sir. I'm not sure."

Hawkeye turned her head to him.

"How much do you weigh, Colonel?"

"I don't want to answer that," he said uneasily, and then again. "I'm so tired."

"Of what, Colonel?"

"Never mind," he mumbled. "I don't want to talk about."

Hawkeye decided against removing his jacket. She hadn't wanted to see what was underneath.

"Get some rest, sir," she said. "I'll be here when you wake up."

It didn't take long for the colonel to fall asleep. When Hawkeye was sure he was asleep, she decided to put the food from the counter away remorsefully. She then decided to call Havoc, sure the colonel was in a deep enough slumber that he wouldn't wake up. Still, she made sure to speak quietly.

"So he's alright?" Havoc asked after Hawkeye lied about the colonel eating. "Are you still there?"

"I'm calling from his phone, he's asleep, though. I wanted to call before I left so I wouldn't forget it."

"But he's alright?" Havoc asked again.

"Yes," Hawkeye lied. "He had eaten before I got here."

"Oh, good. Thanks for calling me, Lieutenant. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

She felt bad for lying, but she didn't want him to worry. Havoc worrying about the colonel would only do more harm than good.

Hawkeye made to go sit back down on the coffee table in front of the colonel, but something stopped her. She wondered if the colonel kept a scale in his bathroom.

* * *

When Roy woke up, sure enough, the lieutenant was there as she said. She was sitting on the coffee table in front of him, her arms folded and her head bowed.

He sat up, "Lieutenant?"

She lifted her head slowly. "Yes?"

"My head is killing me," he said. "Get me an aspirin, please."

Hawkeye rose and went to his bathroom. Roy took a few moments alone to straighten himself out and run a hand through his hair. His head was pounding...

The previous night wasn't completely clear in Roy's mind. He knew he had said some odd things, but he wasn't exactly sure of the lieutenant's replies. He wasn't sure if he should apologize right off the bat or wait until she brought up. Before he could decide, she appeared back in the living room with a glass of water and an aspirin.

"Here," she said, sitting back down on the coffee table. She gave him the pill, waited for him to put it in his mouth, then gave him the water.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant."

"I'm sorry, Colonel."

They had both said it at the same time.

"Why are you apologizing?" Roy asked. "You don't have anything to apologize for."

"I don't know," she admitted. "Never mind. Why did you apologize?"

Roy flushed, ashamed and embarrassed. He couldn't be sure of why she had apologized, but he sure knew why he did. He had apologized for acting so strangely and for worrying her enough to come to his house.

"For what I said last night," said Roy. "I'm sorry."

Hawkeye nodded, "I forgive you, sir."

"I don't know what would possess me to say that to you." Roy rubbed at his temple. "I had a lot to drink."

"I'm sorry," he said again, but this time he wasn't sure why. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant."

Hawkeye stood up. "I already told you I forgive you. Please, stop apologizing."

She went to Roy's kitchen and Roy noticed that everything from yesterday was put back. She opened the fridge and peered into it.

"You don't have much to make breakfast with," she said. "What do you usually eat?"

Roy turned his neck to look at her. He couldn't sure if she was genuinely asking or trying to get him to admit that he didn't eat anything in the morning. He supposed it didn't matter; the answer was the same either way.

"I don't."

"Oh," she said and it came out as a sigh. "I'll try and think of something to make."

"That's unnecessary."

"No, it's not," Hawkeye said with her head in the fridge, not looking at Roy at all. "You hadn't eaten yesterday at all."

"Well, I—"

"I can't trust you to make something after I leave."

Roy could only stay quiet. He kept his hands together on his lap, knowing that an inevitable conversation was coming. Even if Roy hadn't been purposefully not eating, the lieutenant would still feel the need to confront him about it probably. Though, if Roy hadn't done it purposefully, he would simply accept her help and say "I'll try to do better, Lieutenant."

But Roy knew he wasn't going to try and do better. Even if he was fainting, he wasn't going to try and do better. Even with his best friend doing what was supposed to be his job and away from his family, he still wasn't going to try and do better.

"I'll just make your lunch, I suppose." She looked at her watch. "It's almost noon anyway."

"Is it?"

Hawkeye nodded.

"Why aren't you at work?"

"Why do you think?" She asked, pulling stuff from the fridge. "I already called and said I wasn't going to be there in the morning, that I was taking care of you."

Roy rubbed at his eyes, "Did anyone really have to know that?"

"It's not like your struggles are completely private, sir," she said colorlessly. "You don't have to say anything for people to know you need help."

Roy rose from the couch and went to where Hawkeye was. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hawkeye looked up Roy. She blinked at him as if she hadn't said anything strange.

"You're painfully thin, Colonel," she said plainly. "Anyone can see that."

The lieutenant was someone who always said things how they were. She wasn't a fan of sugar-coating; she had always been direct, overtly so (and even sometimes overly so), and now Roy was squirming on the other end of it. Not that he hadn't been before, but Hawkeye had never had to call the colonel out on a serious lie.

That had played this game before. Hawkeye was blunt and almost direct, trying to get Roy to open up by stepping near the answer but never saying it outright because she wanted Roy to say it. It had never been anything but a white lie that Roy had to admit to; it had never been anything like this.

"Lieutenant, watch yourself," Roy spat. "If you have something you want to say to me, stop dancing around it."

"I think you're not eating on purpose to lose weight," she said and not quietly either. "And I think you've been lying about it."

Roy had to be careful of his disposition. It was the same thing as when Hawkeye had confronted him and admitted she thought he had an eating disorder; she wanted to watch his reaction. He made sure to keep his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as if the remark hadn't bothered him in the slightest. As if it wasn't true in the slightest. This couldn't be the end of the road. He wasn't going to allow him fainting to be the reason he was forced to confide in someone.

Moreover, when Roy had pictured himself confessing his inner turmoil to someone, he had pictured confessing it to Hughes. He of course thought about confiding in the lieutenant, but even imagining the scenario in which he would confess made him incredibly uneasy. He would get hot all over and sweat would prickle at his brow just thinking about it. He wondered how he must look to her now, was he managing to cover his fear of addressing the topic? Hawkeye was too intimidating to open up to about this, which was something Roy knew would surely upset her if he had admitted that to her.

"That's insane," Roy said. "I told you already how stupid that was, Lieutenant."

"Is it?" she asked. "Why have you been losing weight?"

"I hadn't—I didn't mean to."

Roy could feel himself losing control of the conversation already. Surely he had to have known she was going to ask that. Of course, she would. That was the entire problem. Why didn't have an answer for that yet? The doctor asked him and he hadn't had the answer and now Hawkeye was asking him and he still didn't have the answer. He knew he must've appeared taken aback. Hawkeye, though, seemed unperturbed.

"Oh," she said. She put the sandwich she had made Roy on a plate. "I'm sorry, Colonel."

"Thank you," he mumbled, taking the plate.

Clearly, there was no option other than to simply eat the sandwich. There was no way to avoid it, no way of getting around it, and no way of not finishing it. He knew that. Plus, if it made making Hawkeye even slightly less suspicious, he would choke it down.

The lieutenant sat down at the table with Roy. He knew she didn't believe Roy's answer; she was only calculating her next move. It almost felt as if the two were playing a game of poker where Roy could only bluff himself to victory. He knew the lieutenant wasn't going to show her hand all at once. She was going to keep Roy shifting uneasily in his seat until he showed his own hand. It would be stupid of him to believe she had simply changed her mind so suddenly. She quietly watched Roy as he began to eat, her eyes following his hands.

"I weigh 167, sir," she said.

"Uh," Roy rose a brow. "What?"

"I used your bathroom scale and weighed myself. I'm 167." Hawkeye paused, dragging her gaze to meet Roy's. "Since you asked me last night."

Apparently, Roy hadn't remembered everything he said last night.

"I don't know why—"

"I know it's because of muscle but...maybe I should lose some weight," she said. "What do you think?"

"Of course not, Lieutenant. You're in great shape, don't be ridiculous."

"How much do you weigh?"

Roy shifted uncomfortably. "How the hell should I know?"

"You have a bathroom scale, I just—"

"I don't use it."

"Why don't we go use it now then?"

Roy sucked in a breath, trying to keep his calm. He looked towards the bathroom, then back to the lieutenant, whose gaze was unwavering. She had an elbow on the table, holding her head up with one of her hands, her face completely unreadable. Roy kept eating, again using the same robotic motions he had at Hughes' house. Hawkeye's pushing pressed his back to the wall and held his feet to the fire. He had to think of an excuse as to why he lost weight, and quickly.

"Please, Lieutenant, I'd prefer if you didn't do this," he said. "I'm trying to eat better, I am, but I feel so..."

Similarly to the doctor, Hawkeye leaned forward, evidently anxious for the rest of Roy's sentence.

"Depressed," he finished. "I can hardly work up an appetite. I feel poorly enough without you badgering me about it."

Hawkeye lifted her head from her hand, her eyes and mouth opening slightly. She looked away from him briefly, looking ashamed of herself, which made Roy feel ashamed of himself. It was a repeat of the scene from yesterday: Roy lied and the other person softened at the lie.

"I'm sorry, I...I thought you..." Hawkeye frowned. "I didn't know you felt like that, Colonel."

"It's rather embarrassing," Roy read from the script. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"I think you should talk about it, sir," said Hawkeye. "Even if not with me, but someone. Have you put any thought into seeing a psychiatrist?"

"Yes," Roy lied.

"Oh?" Hawkeye's brows raised. "That's good. Are you going to see one?"

"I'm not sure."

"I think you should, sir."

Roy nodded and kept eating. The lieutenant still looked a little embarrassed at her previous accusation, which made Roy believe that she now thought her first theory was wrong. Hawkeye was probably scolding herself, feeling incredibly foolish. Still, he knew that even if Hawkeye believed Roy, her original suspicion would still be in the back of her mind.

He couldn't but wonder what Hughes would think of this. Would he believe Roy? Surely. Because if Roy said something was true, Hughes would believe it to be the truth until he was shown otherwise. If Hughes had similar suspicions to Hawkeye about his eating, could he prove to Hughes that it wasn't true? Roy had been evasive lately, he knew that, opting to go straight home after work always recently. And, after all, what seemed more plausible: Roy having an eating disorder or him being depressed?

He hadn't exactly occurred to him that both could be plausible. Or, that most likely, both of them were true.

"I'm sorry if I've caused any," Hawkeye tightened her lips around the word, "distress, sir. I'm only worried about you, especially now after you've fainted."

"I understand." Roy tried his best to smile and force out a laugh. "Your mind can go to the craziest places sometimes, Lieutenant."

"I know, sir."

"Remember how you thought Private Mitchell and Sargent Davis were having an affair?" Roy laughed, genuinely. "How insane was that?"

Hawkeye put her head in her hands. "Don't even remind me."

"Maybe it wasn't that insane, though, I know Mitchell had some marital problems...but you didn't hear that from me."

"I thought she was the one who had marital problems," Hawkeye said. "I didn't know Mitchell was having any."

"I didn't know Davis was having any."

The two blinked at each other, both mirroring each other's slightly surprised facial expressions. Roy couldn't help but smile and laugh.

"Maybe you weren't wrong about that."

Hawkeye chuckled, shaking her head.

Roy was just pleased to be talking about something that wasn't his weight. He almost couldn't believe that he had asked the lieutenant what she weighed and thought perhaps she was only making that up. What else hadn't he remembered?

"Are you looking to have a family soon, Colonel?"

That he remembered. Asking the lieutenant to start a family with him.

Roy felt his face grow hot. "I hadn't meant that."

"Am I to believe that you don't see me as a fit mother to your children?"

Hawkeye had a slight smile touching lips when he looked up at her.

"No, you'd be a fine mother, but I don't...we're not...I don't see you like that," Roy said, then shook his head. "Not that you'd be a bad mother, but...I only mean—"

"I know, sir."

Thinking on it, that was all Roy had remembered saying to the lieutenant the previous night. Now he had known that he said more without even slightly recalling it. He couldn't even be sure how long the two had talked; he hadn't even known what time it was when she came, though he could presume it was close to six o'clock since that's when she usually left the office.

Roy hadn't known if perhaps he had said something concerning his eating or his weight (other than oddly asking the lieutenant hers) and he could only hope that lieutenant wasn't keeping that to herself and saving it for later. The relief at the lieutenant believing his lie—as least it being the reason as to why he had lost weight was a lie—was short-lived. He felt again like they were playing poker but it was as if the lieutenant had all the wild cards.

He had no choice but to assume that he hadn't said anything concerning his eating. He couldn't simply ask her if he had said anything. The only thing Roy could do was move forward on the assumption that Hawkeye had believed his lie.

"Well, sir," Hawkeye rose from her seat once Roy was finished. "I should be—"

The phone rang before she could finish her sentence. They looked to it, sitting on a table next to Roy's couch. Hawkeye walked over and picked it up.

"Oh, Hughes!" she said before saying hello. Hughes had always done that, starting speaking when he heard the line being picked up and before Roy could even say a word. "The colonel is off today...yes...uh-huh...I was only stopping by..."

Roy stood up and made his way near the phone. Why had she lied for him? Maybe she hadn't done it for his sake, but for Hughes' sake. What good was it for him to worry about Roy when he couldn't be here?

"Of course, he's right here." Hawkeye pulled the phone away from her ear and covered it with her hand. "It's Hughes for you."

"Tell him I'm busy," Roy said reflexively, wrapped in his own thoughts. "I mean...give it to me, please."

Hawkeye stepped away after handing the phone to Roy. She mouthed a good-bye and gave a small wave before slipping out the front door.

"Hughes," Roy rasped. "Hi."

"Roy, boy! Hi! It's good to hear your voice."

"It's only been a day, Hughes."

"Well, two if you count Monday since I didn't catch a chance to see you," Hughes said. "I was only calling to say hello. I meant to call your office, but I guess I wasn't thinking when I dialed."

"Huh," gave Roy. "How're things over there?"

"Exactly what you'd expect," said Hughes. "Or rather, exactly what I was expecting. As I thought, Roy, there's nothing to worry about."

"You're sure?"

"Well, it has only been a day."

"Why are you really calling, Hughes?" Roy asked, foolishly nervous he knew Roy fainted the previous day.

"I told you, to say hello."

"Hughes."

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Hughes said. "You were acting weird last weekend and you hadn't even talked to me before I left."

"You left early in the morning. I tried calling but got Gracia instead." Roy paused, "And how was I being weird?"

"Well, when I went to talk to you on Friday—Saturday, I don't remember—you said you had a leg cramp and then ran out saying you thought you left your car running." Hughes laughed loudly. Then, still laughing, "I didn't know what the hell was going on."

"Oh..." Roy trailed off. "I had to speak with Private Zell."

"So why didn't you just say that?"

"I didn't want you thinking anything weird," Roy said.

"And I wouldn't think anything weird with what you did say? Roy, your car keys were on your desk."

Hughes was laughing, which made Roy feel relaxed and guilty at the same time. At least Hughes wasn't pushing his back to the wall.

"I don't know what I was thinking."

"Not to mention you didn't say anything when I was showing you pictures of Gracia and Elysia. It's not any fun annoying you when you don't actually get annoyed."

"Mmm, maybe I'll stay quiet more often, maybe that'll get you to stop."

Hughes laughed again and Roy laughed with him. He felt himself leaning onto the phone as if it was the only thing keeping him standing.

"You're okay, though? Please tell me you don't feel guilty about me being here."

"It's a little hard not to."

"I understand, Roy, but I told you before you shouldn't feel that way."

"I know, I know."

They were silent for a few moments.

Roy still had the feeling that Hughes was calling for a different reason. Who's to say Hawkeye hadn't called him in the middle of the night to tell him about him fainting? Though, if she did that, why wouldn't she have said why would was home? Actually, she wouldn't have had to explain why was home during the day.

He was thinking about it too much. Hughes had said why he called and Roy was going to believe him.

"You're off today?" Hughes asked. "Why?"

"I'm not,.I don't feel well," Roy said. He could at least try and be more honest. "I think the lieutenant only said that so you wouldn't be worried."

"Is it something I should be worried about?"

"No, not at all," Roy said uneasily. "You shouldn't be worried about anything but yourself."

"Alright." A pause. "I'll let you go, Roy, get some rest."

"Stay safe," Roy said quickly and couldn't help but adding a desperate, "Please."

He could hear Hughes' wide grin in his voice through the phone. "I will. Feel better."

Roy hung up the phone and sat down on the couch. He gritted his teeth, softly grinding them. Hughes had always been nothing but good to him and Roy couldn't even be honest to him about why he wasn't going to Lior. He couldn't even get himself to stop doing what he was doing in an attempt to go to Lior to be at his side.

Why hadn't he at least just told Hughes what the doctor said he was going to tell the Fuhrer? Was it really that imperative that he keep any medical concern undisclosed just to ensure he didn't find out about Roy's restrictive diet? Not when it came to Hughes, it wasn't. Roy had only wanted to live up to what Hughes thought of him.

He could be so rash sometimes, so desperate to keep his eating habits private that he would lie to his best friend (and not to mention the other closest person to him). Moreover, he was so desperate to keep up the same eating habits that he wasn't willing to eat more and put on weight in hopes of going to Lior for Hughes.

Roy couldn't lose this. It was all he had. He could always count on keeping his weight low when the world around him went crazy.

His gaze moved to the bathroom door. It was all too tempting to get rid of his last meal.


	7. Fractured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter than I would've liked, but I haven't published in a little bit so I thought against stretching it out. The next should be longer! Also, please be warned, this chapter has some pretty explicit scenes concerning Roy's eating disorder. Please be aware while reading, thanks.

Hawkeye left the colonel's house feeling incredibly ashamed of herself. She felt so badly for not only thinking such a thing about the colonel, but she also felt bad for approaching the situation like that. She knew she should've been nicer about it and allowed Roy to confide in her comfortably.

Still, she couldn't help but feel as if she was still right. Maybe she just didn't want to admit to being wrong and acting out like that...

The colonel wouldn't lie about being depressed. He would, though, lie about not being depressed. Or rather, the colonel would omit that part of himself and not allow anyone to be privy of it. It wasn't that Hawkeye didn't believe that he was depressed, but she wasn't sure if she believed that it was the reason he had lost weight. He was incredibly evasive about his eating and weight; Hawkeye thought that maybe he was only so evasive about it because it alluded to a problem and maybe he had been so scared of anyone finding out anything.

The colonel asking her weight had been...odd, to say the least. If the colonel hadn't been losing weight on purpose then why would he ask something like that? Perhaps it was only because he had been losing weight and was all too aware of it, not that he had been losing weight on purpose.

She decided to believe the colonel until she was proven otherwise. The lieutenant felt guilty for doubting his words, but she couldn't allow herself to believe everything he said at face value. This was because she feared her original suspicions were right and that she would be ignoring the issue if she simply forgot about it.

When Hawkeye walked into the office, she saw only Havoc sitting at his desk with his head in his paperwork.

"So, you stayed over for the night?" Havoc asked once Hawkeye was at her desk, handing her a cup of coffee. "I wonder what happened..."

She graciously took the mug and took a sip. "Thank you...and nothing, Havoc. You know that."

"Sure," he smirked. "I know that."

Hawkeye rolled her eyes, smiling.

"But honestly," Havoc started, his smile faded. "he's okay?"

The lieutenant looked up to Havoc's expectant face. She knew that whatever she said, he would believe. He needn't be worrying about the colonel, but she knew saying that to him wouldn't stop him from doing just that. Havoc was a good man and better soldier but he wasn't exactly always good at connecting the dots for himself. Though, if Hawkeye simply said that the colonel was fine and there was nothing to worry about, he would catch the lie. He wasn't stupid, she knew that. She had to think of something he'd believe and she wasn't sure if she should tell the truth.

She already hadn't told the truth. As far as Havoc knew, the colonel went home and ate and that was all. He only thought that the lieutenant stayed over because it was so late and she was so tired, not that Roy had been inebriated and she wanted to be there when he woke up. She had called Havoc in the morning to say that she only wanted to make sure Roy woke up and ate alright and that she would be late, and that's why she was there.

What did Havoc think was going on, Hawkeye thought, what had he made of the whole situation?

"Yes, he's alright." Hawkeye looked down into her coffee. "He was only worried about Hughes."

"And Lior?"

"Yes," said Hawkeye quietly. "And Lior."

Havoc reached into his pocket and produced his carton of cigarettes. Hawkeye watched as he took a cigarette and lit it, setting the carton on her desk. She couldn't help but move her gaze to it.

She supposed everyone had their vices. Havoc was an easy-going guy and never talked about his personal life (other than the horrible dates he went on). It seemed Havoc kept most of his personal life private more so out of happenstance, rather than wanting to keep it to himself. It didn't feel as if he was hiding something from everyone, but how odd was it that he sawed through cigarettes and never appeared to be stressed? Maybe Havoc had his own issues he should focus on and not the colonel's.

"What do you make of Lior, Lieutenant?" Havoc asked. "I know the colonel and Hughes disagreed on it, but I think I find myself agreeing with Hughes."

"I'm not sure," Hawkeye admitted. "I understand the colonel's worries, I found myself thinking the same thing before he even told me what thought. I can't help but feel like maybe I'm overthinking it."

"I know I wasn't in Ishval, so I don't know the way it affected you or the colonel, but I don't think the uprisings in Lior are anything to worry about...at least not in the way you two are worried about it."

"I think you might just be right."

Havoc sat at the edge of the desk, smoking quietly, his signature smirk back on his face. Hawkeye sipped on her coffee and then went back to her paperwork.

She had to relax, she knew that. Panicking over the colonel would do nothing except getting her mind to go crazy places. That's probably why she had thought he had an eating disorder.

No, she couldn't allow the colonel to make her feel like she was crazy for thinking that. Even if she would give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that depression was causing his weight loss, he had given her multiple reasons to believe that he had an eating disorder.

Hawkeye couldn't help but wonder what Havoc would think of that. Havoc had also been cautious of leaving the colonel alone to eat but when she agreed, he had asked why she said that. Perhaps Havoc only thought that someone should be with him, she wasn't sure. Moreover, Havoc had to have his own suspicions about the colonel already and she wanted to know what they were but she hadn't wanted to press.

Then, as if he read her mind:

"I think the colonel is overworked," he said. "Majorly."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. He just looks like he's barely had the time to take care of himself." Havoc paused, "He seems so distracted lately. I know he's worried about Lior, but I feel like there might be something else."

Hawkeye shifted uncomfortably. "What else?"

"I don't know," Havoc said again, giving a shrug. Hawkeye was inclined to believe that. "It just seems like something else is bothering him."

"Hmm," Hawkeye hummed, again looking down at her paperwork.

"Sorry, I'm pressing." Havoc quickly glanced over his shoulder at the lieutenant. "I'm not trying to get you to tell me something. I'm just thinking aloud, I don't know what the hell I'm talking about."

"Well, I'll tell you this," Hawkeye started. "If the colonel needs you to be there for him—"

"I will, of course."

"The colonel has a lot on his mind," she said. "That's all, but you know how difficult is to get him to open up."

"So I'm told," said Havoc. "I never felt like that."

Hawkeye nodded and Havoc went back to smoking. The two sat there quietly, the lieutenant doing her paperwork and Havoc sucking on his cigarette and puffing out smoke.

Not that she hadn't felt comfortable with the second lieutenant before, but she had always felt more comfortable with the colonel. Recently, being alone with the colonel made Hawkeye feel incredibly stifled. She was always eager to leave the room or overly anxious for someone else to come in. It felt like he was always irritable and always on edge.

Maybe Roy really was that depressed to have lost that much weight.

Havoc put his cigarette out on the lieutenant's desk, a bad habit he had of putting out his cigarettes on whatever he was in front of him. He turned his head to look at her.

"Where is everyone?" she asked.

"Lunch."

"You didn't go?"

"I wanted to be here when you got here," he said.

Hawkeye smiled up at him. "You could've gone."

Havoc shrugged, grinning. "I know."

She couldn't help but feel guilty for not being completely honest with Havoc. Especially since she was more confused about what was plaguing the colonel, it probably wasn't the best idea to be discussing it with Havoc, even if he was very concerned.

The colonel wouldn't turn around in a day, no matter if he was losing weight on purpose or not. She knew she had to be patient. Still, she'd be keeping an eye out.

* * *

Roy was looming over the toilet, looking in the clean porcelain bowl. He could feel his breath begin to quicken the more he contemplated throwing his food up.

After the lieutenant had left, Roy took a shower and changed. Then weighed himself and he was still 138. Afterward, he looked into his toilet and debating throwing up. Feeling antsy that he would do it, he left the bathroom and tried to lie down, but before long he was back in the bathroom.

Just trying it couldn't be that harmful, Roy tried to rationalize to himself. He only wanted to try, he wouldn't do it all the time.

Though, as he had thought before, it would be easier to keep managing his weight more private. He knew that he would put on a bit of weight if he started to eat somewhat normally even if he was throwing. But, he supposed that he only had to eat a normal lunch (and stop evading anything that had to do with eating) and that would lower Hawkeye's suspicions.

Plus, perhaps the doctor would see him putting on weight and think of it as an effort. Maybe that was worth putting on a bit of weight if it meant he could have his peace and get everyone off his back.

Before he had done anything, Roy washed his hands and rolled up his sleeves. He knelt in front of the toilet and almost felt he would puke on accident from how anxious he was. He almost wished he would.

Roy rose his shaking hand to his mouth and brushed them against his lips. He put two fingers, his index, and middle, into his mouth slowly. He coughed once, twice, a third time after he hit the back of his throat. He sat there, his fingers still in his mouth.

What am I doing here? he asked himself.

He shook his head, tossing the thought away, and tried again. He hit the back of his throat and felt bile rise up in his throat. Quickly, he leaned forward and pulled his hand out of his mouth to allow himself to throw up in the toilet.

It felt like he was frozen. He was stuck between flushing the toilet and rushing out the bathroom, pretending nothing happened or...doing it again, making sure he got the rest out.

Roy stuck his now saliva-covered hand in his mouth and forced himself to throw up again, and then again, and again.

By the fourth time, Roy felt wiped. His eyes were tearing up, his nose was running, and it felt like there were saliva and puke all over him (although it was just on his mouth and hands). Surprisingly, he felt a huge sense of relief alongside feeling completely grossed out. He rose slowly, stumbled to the sink, and washed his hands and face. He put water in his mouth, swishing it for a couple of moments before spitting it into the sink. He decided then to brush his teeth and it almost felt like he would never get the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

As he floated to his bedroom, feeling a little faint, he couldn't help but wonder what Hughes would think of this. Roy still couldn't be sure if Hughes had similar suspicions to Hawkeye about his eating habits. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, he hadn't given Roy any real reason to believe he did. Still, even if he did, surely he would be shocked if he had known Roy purposefully throw up his lunch.

The chances of someone finding out about this moment were impossible. Although, when Roy went back to work tomorrow and get rid of his lunch in the public bathroom. He supposed he wasn't that rare Roy would go in the bathroom to find no one there anyway. In this case that no one was in there (or no one walked in...) Roy assured himself that it wouldn't be found out that he was throwing up.

He laid down his bed, atop of the duvet, and gazed up at the ceiling.

Was Roy ready to do this? He knew in a lot of ways, this was much more serious—and much more concerning—than simply restricting his food intake and exercising. If someone were to find out, it wasn't anything he could explain away. There was only one explanation.

Roy supposed that if he were to not put on any weight, the doctor and Hawkeye surely would understand that something was wrong. He would have to decide whether he was going to put on weight by eating more or if he was going to put on only a bit of weight by eating a little more and throwing it up.

The latter seemed to be more appealing because then he'd be able to have this for a little longer.

Moreover, if he could go to Lior! Oh, then maybe he'd feel the least bit less guilty about Hughes being there. He wanted nothing more than to right that wrong and by putting on a little bit of weight maybe he could do that.

No, eating regularly and admitting lying to Hughes was the way to right that wrong.

So badly he wanted to confide in Hughes. He wanted to look up into Hughes' eyes and admit that so badly he needed some help. He could almost scream from how badly he wanted to come clean to Hughes about everything.

But he couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. There was no way that would ever happen. He couldn't admit to Hughes his eating habits, let alone that he had lied about why he wasn't going to Lior. He wasn't sure which was worse.

Roy pulled himself up and went to his closet to get a clean uniform. He thought he'd go back to work, feel a little more normal. His head was still pounding though, so he went and took another aspirin.

Obviously, the lieutenant wouldn't be so pleased with him showing up, but he knew staying at home all day would drive him up a wall. She would just have to be okay with that.

He got dressed and looked at himself in the mirror. He really didn't look that great, but there wasn't much he could do about it before he left.

When he got to the office, only Havoc and Hawkeye were sitting there. Havoc was sitting on her desk and Hawkeye was sitting at her desk, doing her paperwork.

"Oh, Colonel," Havoc said, surprised. "You're here."

"Yeah," he said, walking to his desk. "I wouldn't do any good at being home."

"But aren't—"

Hawkeye touched Havoc's back, telling him not to continue. Roy sat down at his desk, pretending not to see and pretending as if Havoc hadn't cut himself off abruptly.

He knew that Havoc and Hawkeye were both staring at him while both trying not to appear as if they were doing so. Roy pretended to be looking at his paperwork and he tried to ignore the two. He thought that the lieutenant would probably encourage him to go home.

But she didn't.

Falman, Breda, and Fuery came back into the room, laughing and talking loudly. He glanced up at them and forced a smile.

"Colonel," Breda said. "You're okay?"

"No worse for wear," Roy mumbled. "I have such a headache though..."

"Have any coffee today?" Breda asked. Roy shook his head. "Want me to grab you some?"

"Sure, thanks."

Breda turned and left the room.

Roy ducked his head back down. When he briefly flicked his gaze, he saw that no one in his office was reacting to him being here, or being late. Perhaps they knew better than to ask. That hadn't been anything new. Whenever Roy had come into the office in a bad mood (he hoped he wasn't currently coming off that way), anyone on his team knew better than to pry and see what was wrong.

He was overly aware that he could be hard to get to open up. In many ways, that was the way he liked things. Roy didn't like to confide in people about his problems because he didn't like the idea of everyone knowing his business. The idea of his weaknesses being out in the open was extremely unappealing. In other ways though, not often confiding in someone had made him feel incredibly lonely. Most likely, with the course of action, he had in mind, that feeling would only become more intense.

Even if he never discussed it with someone, his habits weren't exactly private. He didn't discuss or allude to what he ate for other his other meals, except once mentioning to Hughes that he only had a cup of coffee in the morning. He didn't have to hide it, more so just keep his private. Although, it only became increasingly obvious that Roy didn't have the best eating habit considered he always turned down almost anything anyone offered him and refused to go to a meal with anyone. That was except for very recently of course, and he had only gone to lunch with Hughes and Hawkeye and had gone to Hughes' house for dinner in hopes of lowering suspicions about his eating habits.

Throwing up his food would mean keeping that hidden; it would be a lie of omission. It would be something that no one would be allowed to know about under any circumstances. Moreover, it would mean Hawkeye and the doctor (and Hughes, if he was suspicious of Roy's eating habits) would think that Roy had "recovered" from his depression and was beginning to take care of himself better.

If Roy could turn back time and go back to simply not eating a lot rather than throwing his food up, he would. He didn't want to have to throw up his food in order to control his weight and still keep it private, but if he had to, Roy was going to.

Easily Roy was ignoring the most rational option: to confide in someone. He actually wouldn't even have to tell Hughes or Hawkeye, technically, he could see a psychiatrist and keep that private. And, perhaps he could tell Hawkeye and Hughes about it afterward.

But he knew wasn't going to do that. That would mean giving up what little control of his weight he had left.

* * *

"Everything's really okay over there?" Roy asked over the phone. "You're not lying to me?"

Hughes had been in Lior for the previous two weeks and Roy was getting more anxious by the day. He couldn't help but feel that Hughes was lying about everything being okay. Although, after Hughes had been there a week, he started to call Roy each night. Roy supposed that if things truly were bad in Lior, he probably wouldn't have been able to call.

"Yes," Hughes said. "Yes, as in everything's really okay and no, I'm not lying to you."

"Alright..."

"You believe me?"

"Sure," he said. "I'll believe you...for now, but if I'm given a reason otherwise..."

"You won't, Roy. I promise," said Hughes. He paused for a few moments, then, "Oh! Did I tell you about Elysia—"

"With the drawing of you two? Yes, you told me."

Hughes laughed, "I thought you weren't listening and I'd be able to tell you again."

"I'm always listening, Hughes."

Roy knew Hughes must be smiling.

"Right, well, I should be home soon. Things are calming down here."

"I thought things were okay?"

"They are! But the riots are calming down," Hughes said. "That's what I mean, so I shouldn't be here much longer."

"Oh," Roy rasped. "Good, good."

"I just feel so bad about Elysia. I really didn't think I'd be here this long."

"Yeah," Roy said uneasily, his throat suddenly dry. "It's okay, though, she'll just be happy when you're back."

"Right, I know, but I..." Hughes trailed off and then began again quietly. "I can't help but feel that maybe she thinks I chose my job over her."

"She doesn't," Roy said. "She knows that you can't be home all the time."

It was a conversation that he and Hughes have had multiple times. In a lot of ways, Hughes could be private than Roy himself. Roy knew that having to be away from his family for long hours (and now on a mission that was two weeks) ate up at Hughes. That and Ishval were the only things Hughes allowed Roy to be privy to that was bothering him. Roy had always seen Hughes as an open guy because he wasn't afraid to show his emotions or lean on someone when he needed to, but Hughes could keep a lot of turmoil almost completely private.

Hughes only sighed. "Anyway, I'll let you go, Roy. Hopefully, I'll see you soon."

"Hopefully."

When Roy hung up the phone, knew he had to tell Hughes that he lied. He couldn't have it looming over his head every time he spoke to Hughes or even thought of Hughes; it would drive Roy up a wall. He thought that if Roy admitting to lying at least the two could try and move past it. If he didn't admit to it, there wouldn't be any chance of that.

Roy had never given Hughes a reason to be seriously disappointed in him thus far. This would be the biggest thing to come between the two. Roy couldn't even begin to imagine how Hughes would react. Surely Hughes wouldn't just stop being his friend...right? Roy asked himself. The thought of that was almost too much to bear.

Even so, Roy owed it to Hughes to be honest Not only because Hughes had gone to Lior in his place, but simply because Hughes was his best friend. Never would Hughes lie to Roy in order to protect himself; it was only the opposite. Hughes would lie to Roy in order to protect Roy.

The lie, in addition to Roy trying to keep his eating habits a secret from Hughes, had put an intense strain on their relationship. Roy could only be thankful for Hughes being in Lior because that meant he didn't have to actively hide purging his food from Hughes.

Since the day the lieutenant had been at his house and he first attempted to throw up his meal, he had been consistently doing it after lunch. He still ate nothing for breakfast, but instead brought a sandwich and soup for lunch (instead of a salad and soup) and didn't turn down anytime Hawkeye or Havoc asked him to lunch unless he was honestly too busy to leave the office. For dinner, he allowed himself some fish with salad on the side, which he hadn't thrown up except for once.

When he had weighed himself the previous night, he saw that he was 142 pounds. He felt incredibly conflicted. He knew that he had to gain at least some weight to halt suspicions, but it was just so disheartening to see the number on the scale go up. He could at least tell himself that he was the one who in control of that.

After that, he had thrown up his dinner.

Seeing the lieutenant's relieved face after he had eaten his lunch made Roy feel incredibly guilty when he excused himself to the bathroom. She hadn't said anything, but her proud smile served as her words.

Perhaps she had thought he begun to see a psychiatrist.

Roy noticed his relationships had begun to feel broken. He felt terrible for lying to his subordinates, even if it was a lie of omission. Roy felt especially bad when it came to the lieutenant because the strain that had been on their relationship was one-sided. She seemed confident her confrontation had jolted Roy and lit a fire under him to eat better.

Maybe she was faking it.

The doctor hadn't approached him despite asking Roy to see him again in a few days after he proposed that Roy was lying. He just hadn't known how to explain his sudden change and why he was suddenly going to start eating better. Although, it worried Roy that perhaps the doctor thought he was lying and he decided to see him later in the day.

Hughes had called Roy almost as soon as Roy had sat down after getting back from the bathroom. Hawkeye had also gotten a call. She hung soon after Roy and came to his desk.

"The new uniforms are here," she said, "Finally."

The uniforms! He had almost forgotten all about them. How was he supposed to put on weight when he had just gotten a new uniform? How embarrassing would that be!

"I know," said Hawkeye in response to Roy's surprised face. "I was beginning to think we were never getting them. I'm gonna go get mine now, would you like me to grab yours, sir?"

"Please."

"Alright. I'll be back."

Roy watched as she left and waited until the door shut to let out a quiet sigh.

There had to be a better way of handling his weight to avoid suspicions. He thought that maybe he should put his efforts into maintaining his weight, instead of putting on a little. Although, he had been a bit of a plateau recently and was stuck at 140—or rather, 138...—and really hadn't moved much in two weeks. Hawkeye had seemed content with Roy eating and not being evasive without bringing up his eating. Yet.

The doctor on the other hand...

Roy stood up from his desk. "I'll be right back," he announced.

Slowly, Roy walked out of the room and headed for the doctor's office. With a pit in his stomach, he tried to figure out what he was going to say. Surely if the lieutenant believed his lie—someone who knew Roy better than himself—then the doctor would too.

Roy opened the door slightly ajar and knocked, poking his head in. The doctor looked up at him.

"Roy," he said. "Hello. Come in."

He slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. He went to the doctor's desk and sat down on one of the chairs in front of it.

"I've been very busy lately," said Roy. "I meant to come and speak with you."

"Okay. What did you want to tell me?"

Roy swallowed thickly. "I wasn't lying before. About being depressed."

The doctor folded his hand and laid them on his desk. He stayed silent, allowing Roy to elaborate.

"I've been eating better," Roy said quickly. "Fainting, plus my lieutenant being worried about me, kinda woke me up. Even not going to Lior...I can't allow my appetite, or lack thereof, to affect my work like this."

"Huh," was all the doctor gave for a moment. "Are you going to start seeing a psychiatrist?"

Roy worked his jaw. "I've been giving it thought."

"Good! That's good. I do have a few people I could recommend."

"That would be great," Roy said. "Thank you."

Roy hated how easily he could lie. He wondered how long he would've kept his eating habits a secret if it weren't for that.

"I hear the Lior conflict is wrapping up," said the doctor, almost uneasy. "So I'm sorry I couldn't send you, but when you fainted, I have to say, I made the right choice."

So Hughes wasn't lying about coming home soon. Good.

"I understand, sir."

The doctor smiled. "Alright, Roy, I'm glad you felt you could be honest with me. I hadn't meant to corner you like that, but I thought that..."

Roy froze.

"Well, let's just say I thought a lot worse about your weight loss," the doctor finished. "But, even if you don't have an appetite, it's still important that you eat."

"I know. I'm—" Roy cut himself off. "Let me stop giving excuses."

"Alright. If you want those names of those psychiatrists, let me know, okay?"

"Of course."

Roy stood up, feeling much heavier than the 142 pounds he weighed and walked to the door. Before he could escape through, the doctor spoke again.

"I apologize again about Lior, Roy. I know you feel worried about your friend there but...don't beat yourself up about it."

"Okay," Roy rasped.

He quickly opened the door and left. Roy couldn't help but let out the breath he was holding the entire time. He was itching for the relief he had after throwing up.

On the way back to his office, Roy was filled with intense dread over the norm uniform. Of course, his new one would fit, but if he was going to continue to put on a bit of weight then he wasn't sure if he'd need another new uniform. Most likely. If he was going to put on enough weight to get everyone off his back.

When he was back in his office, Hawkeye was on the phone again, but when she noticed Roy, she pointed to his desk. She had left his uniform (it was pressed, folded, and put in plastic) on his desk.

Since the conflict in Lior was almost coming to an end, Roy couldn't help but feel that putting on weight was suddenly less important. He knew he had to still, but now the real driving force was gone before he had really started to do anything.

Hiding throwing up from Hughes would most likely be the hardest since Roy felt an urge to confide in him. He knew sooner or later he'd end up breaking. Though, it wasn't like he was going to be doing this for the rest of his life. He'd simply stop when his eating habits were no longer in question.

Anyone Roy had asked about Lior had been incredibly evasive. When Roy asked General Grumman, he thought he would get a good answer, but he had beat around the bush and hadn't really answered Roy's question. Roy also asked someone who had been in Lior and came back after breaking his arm what was going on and he had been incredibly dismissive about it.

Roy could only hope that for Hughes' sake that Lior really hadn't that bad. Moreover, that it wasn't similar to Ishval where he was doing things he'd later come to regret.

In Ishval, everything felt out of Roy's control, especially being a state alchemist (which Hughes was obviously not) there was no chance of him avoiding killing. That's what Roy was there for. That's why he had been promoted from major to lieutenant colonel during the war when no one else had earned a promotion directly from the war. There was no simply leaving. He could have his state alchemist status revoked.

Everything in Ishval was made so much worse by the fact that things were really in Roy's control, even if they didn't feel like it. He did have the option to leave. It wasn't like there was no other choice than being in the military and a state alchemist.

Roy had always envied Armstrong and the fact that he was sent home without requesting it. It left him with superiors looking down on him, but the Armstrong's did have a strong presence in the military and of course their own study of alchemy. Roy however, could've lost promotable status if he left, whether or not he requested it. That was in addition to any other ramifications he could've faced.

Still, he was the one in control. He was following orders but by his own choice.

When Roy had gotten home from Ishval, he had fallen into a deep depression, which wasn't unique. Wanting to control his weight hadn't started immediately and Roy couldn't pin when exactly he started to feel this way. He did start off by being overly aware of what he ate and how much he exercised, as opposed to what he was eating. Roy knew that his eating habits had snowballed from what they began as.

Even beginning to throw up his food made Roy feel less in control. He hadn't wanted to do such a disgusting thing, but he almost felt there was no choice if he wanted to keep his weight under control while still appearing to eat.

It was every day Roy would feel regret about Ishval. He felt guilty that simply trying to become fuhrer and return Amestris to democracy wasn't enough to fix things.

He couldn't allow Hughes to have gone to Lior in his place and not tell him the truth. Hughes seemed pleased to go (maybe less so now with how long he was there) because Roy could keep a clear conscience. He hurt so badly to know that.

It also hurt badly that Roy knew he wouldn't have done the same.

Hughes was overly selfless, especially when it came to Roy. Mostly because Roy was the opposite. He would be the first to admit that he was selfish. He had to be, to get to where he wanted.

Their relationship wasn't going to be the same after he admitted to lying, Roy knew that. He had to admit to lying, whether it meant Hughes severing their relationship or not. If Roy didn't admit to it, their relationship would be marred by Roy's guilt anyway.

Hawkeye finally hung up the phone and looked at Roy. She was pale and her eyes moved to his phone. Suddenly, it rang. Roy rose a brow at her before answering.

"Colonel Roy Mustang," he said.

"Colonel Mustang, hello." the woman on the other line said. "I'm calling in connection to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes."

Roy's heart dropped. "What about him?"

"He put you as an emergency contact," she said. "He has some pretty severe injuries."


	8. Pretense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explained why Hughes and Roy work in the same building even though canonically they don't (even though no one probably even noticed that...) Again, with this chapter, there are some intense scenes involving Roy's eating disorder. Please keep that in mind while reading.

Roy felt a similar feeling to when Hughes had told him he was going to Lior, but it came back tenfold. It was guilt, shame, and anxiety all rolled into one intense feeling. He felt such an intense numbness that he thought he could almost faint just as he did a few weeks ago. He wanted to be alone but couldn't encourage any words out of his throat to ask his subordinates to leave the room.

"Hello? Colonel?" The woman asked. "Are you still there, sir?"

"Yes. I'm still here. Wha..." Roy lost his voice. "What happened to him?"

"I have to admit, sir, I'm unsure."

Roy instantly felt anger bloom in his chest and his face. "Unsure? What the hell do you mean unsure?"

"I only know that he was severely injured and that I needed to notify you."

He pulled the phone away from his face to let out a strangled noise, and he wasn't sure if it was out of frustration or remorse.

"How do I find out?" he asked.

"He's being transferred to Central Hospital, sir. I only know that he's stable enough for that. I'm not sure when he'll arrive, though."

Roy put a hand to his temple. "Alright...I'll head over there so I'm there when he gets there."

"Okay, sir," she said. "I'm sorry I don't have any more information for you."

Unsure of how to respond, Roy hung up the phone. He stood up and sat right back down when he suddenly felt dizzy. Hawkeye stood up from her chair and went to his side.

"Colonel, are you alright?"

"We have to go to the hospital," he said calmly. "You can drive?"

"Of course, sir."

Roy stood up again, bracing himself on his desk. He made his way to the door with the lieutenant right by his side; she seemed ready to catch him if he fell. The two walked to the lieutenant's car the same way, and he could almost feel her hand hovering behind him. Before starting her car, she turned to the colonel.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"What do you think?" Roy spat. "Start driving, Lieutenant."

She hesitated momentarily and then started her car.

His chest felt tight and heavy but he tried to keep his composure to avoid the lieutenant's worry. He knew that no matter what his disposition was though, she was going to be worried anyway. Hawkeye knew better than to believe he was calm and collected when his closest friend was severely injured.

Roy's mind went to Gracia. Why wasn't she his emergency contact? How would she feel about Roy being Hughes' emergency contact? There had to be a good reason, obviously, but Roy couldn't place why Hughes would pick him over Gracia.

How would Gracia and Elysia react? Did Gracia know Hughes only went because of Roy not going? Would Gracia blame Roy?

Roy sure blamed Roy.

Moreover, did Hughes blame Roy? No, probably not. He would probably just smile that stupid smile and say "as long as you can do what you feel is right." If Hughes wasn't in critical condition and wasn't causing his family serious anguish, then he would think nothing of being injured so that Roy could live with a clear conscience. If only that were true. Even if Roy had made the choice not to go, as he said to Hughes, he most likely still would've felt guilty.

At least he was stable, Roy told himself. He felt guilty for even feeling a bit relieved at that. He desperately just wanted to know what was wrong with Hughes so his heart would stop racing so fast. He just wanted to know that he'd be okay.

Hawkeye was glancing at Roy every few moments. She kept her mouth in a tight line and Roy knew she was itching to say something. He didn't feel like talking, so Roy didn't ask what she wanted to say. She was obviously very concerned, seeing as his best friend was in the hospital, and Roy felt bad for not opening up to her. But, he didn't have to admit to being afraid of what happened to Hughes for Hawkeye to know it was clearly true.

"I guess he's here already," she said quietly when they arrived at the hospital. There was an ambulance and an MP car right behind it.

"Let's wait until he's inside," said Roy calmly. "I don't want to get it anyone's way."

Hawkeye nodded. She parked her car and turned to Roy.

"You shouldn't blame yourself," she said suddenly. "I know that must be what's running through your mind."

"I should've gone, Lieutenant. Hughes only—" Roy scoffed. "I don't want to discuss this."

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but she hadn't. Roy wondered if she would look at him the same way if she knew that he had lied about why he wasn't in Lior. Most likely not. Roy wasn't sure how Hawkeye would respond if he told her. If. He also wasn't even sure if he should even tell her. Of course, Roy wouldn't want her to hear it out of a mouth that wasn't his own, but it would only be Hughes that could tell her. Roy wasn't sure if Hughes would tell her.

It felt like he was unsure about a lot of things. Even so, Roy was still sure he had to admit to lying to Hughes. Still, maybe when he was in the hospital wouldn't be the best idea.

The two waited silently for the commotion outside to go down. Roy thought to wait until when he thought Hughes being admitted and at least settled in a room was finished. He didn't mind sitting in the waiting room, but he wanted to make sure that enough time passed so that there wasn't craziness in the hospital. That was all even if there was craziness. Roy knew he was stable, so it wasn't as if there was intense trauma to be dealt with.

"Alright." Roy opened his door. "Let's go in."

* * *

Hawkeye turned off her car and stepped out. She followed closely behind the colonel as they went into the hospital. He spoke to the woman at the front desk and she sat down in a close seat while the colonel and the woman at the desk went back and forth. She almost thought to step in when it looked the colonel was going to lose his temper on the poor woman, but he suddenly drew in a deep breath and turned around. He fell into the seat next to her and put his head in his hands. So badly she wanted to at least put a hand on his back but she thought against it.

"I'm so tired," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Man, my head is killing me."

"I'll find us some coffee?" Hawkeye asked. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," said the colonel. "Thanks."

Hawkeye stood up and made her way to the cafeteria. Both she and the colonel had been in this hospital many times for themselves or for someone else, so she knew where she was going.

Of course, Hawkeye was herself worried about Hughes but she still felt intense worry for the colonel. She felt bad because it seemed like he had just gotten back on his feet and was beginning to take care of himself better.

The lieutenant had been wary of the colonel's reasoning for his weight loss. He had lost a lot of weight and it had been going on for a while, but if he really was avoiding putting on weight (or trying to lose it), the colonel wouldn't have just starting eating normally again. There would've been much more resistance on his end. Instead, the colonel stopped evading food so heavily. She had thought perhaps that maybe it wasn't her confronting him that really jolted him but instead fainting. Knowing the colonel, Hawkeye knew he had to be incredibly embarrassed. She had hoped he began seeing a psychiatrist, or at least was looking to see one; however, she could hardly believe that would be true.

Hawkeye grabbed two coffees and left the cafeteria.

"No cream?" The colonel asked once she got back to him, peering into the cup. "Sugar?"

"Oh, no. Sorry, it must've slipped my mind. Want me to go back?"

"No, it's fine."

She sat down and sipped on her coffee, noticing the colonel did not take a sip of his. He had always taken his coffee sweet, she knew that he had never liked black coffee because—

"I'm always worried it'll stain my teeth," the colonel said. "Isn't that stupid?"

"I don't think so, but I think it's better to stain my teeth than rot them with cavities...right?"

Hawkeye strained to smile when the colonel looked up at him. He smiled back, his eyes still sad, and she knew she probably looked the same. He took a sip of his coffee, cringing at the taste.

"I don't know how you drink this, Lieutenant."

"It's hospital coffee, what do you expect?"

"I meant black coffee. Of course, this is bad."

"Oh." She crossed her legs, trying to appear more casual. Better to talk about mundane things than to leave him with his thoughts. "I didn't have sugar once, so I drank it without it. Now I don't even need it."

"I wish I drank my coffee black. I always feel like a sissy using cream and sugar."

Hawkeye laughed, "I'm sure no one thinks that about you."

The colonel sighed, allowing his head to fall back as he relaxed in his seat.

"I can't stop thinking about Gracia and Elysia," he said suddenly. "And I can't figure why I was his emergency contact and not Gracia."

"Perhaps he hadn't wanted to worry her," Hawkeye said. "Maybe he figured you would react better than her."

"Yeah..." The colonel trailed off. He closed his eyes and spoke almost in a whisper. "My chest feels so tight it could burst."

Hawkeye hovered her hand over his that was sitting on the arm of the chair. She wanted so badly to just hold his hand to let him know that she was there. But, she was too afraid he would pull back his hand if she did that.

"I don't understand," he said. "I was just talking to him on the phone."

"I know, sir, but we'll know more when we get a chance to speak with him."

The colonel raised his arm and put it over his eyes, his eyes buried in his elbow. She knew that he was probably kicking himself over and over again, blaming himself for Hughes being injured. Not that she believed it was his fault, but she surely could understand why the colonel would feel that way. It wasn't as if the colonel knew that would happen or had meant for it to happen. He hadn't felt comfortable going, whereas Hughes did.

Hawkeye looked at his left hand again, still resting on the arm of the chair. She put her hand out to touch it.

"Colonel Mustang," a doctor said, almost as if appearing from thin air.

She and the colonel looked up at him suddenly; her pulling her hand back and him sitting up straight.

"That's me."

"You may see Lieutenant Colonel Hughes now."

The two stood up.

"Only one of you at a time please," the doctor said.

The colonel turned to her and she sat down. He nodded at her and followed the doctor down the hallway.

While Hawkeye herself would've liked to seen Hughes, she was just relieved that the colonel was finally getting to see him. The colonel would be able to apologize as he wanted to. She could imagine Hughes smiling and she knew that Hughes would tell the colonel it wasn't his fault. Though, she also knew that the colonel wouldn't believe Hughes when he said that.

She had gotten the call that was meant for him since outsider callers were always sent to her phone instead of his. She had only heard that Hughes was injured and that the colonel was his emergency contact. That was all. She hadn't known anything else about his condition, but she could assume that he was at least somewhat stable. If he wasn't the colonel would've reacted tremendously differently.

Hawkeye only hoped that the colonel wouldn't be too hard on himself and that Hughes was alright.

* * *

Roy poked his head in the door and Hughes looked up at him with a strained smile.

Hughes had a bandage on the side of his, along with a few scrapes. Roy scanned him to see where else he was hurt and noticed an ace-bandage on his left wrist that was laying at his side. He couldn't see anything else and thought Hughes actually looked...

"You're alright," Roy rasped, almost out of breath. "I was so—"

"I know, I know," said Hughes, his voice a little hoarse. "Sit down. Relax, Roy."

Roy took the chair next to Hughes' bed and moved it closer so he could be right at his bedside and see his face.

"What happened to you?" Roy asked. "They said you were severely injured."

"My leg—" Hughes saw Roy's face pale. "It's okay, Roy. It's only broken."

"Oh..."

"But it's pretty badly broken." Hughes laughed wryly. "Smashed, almost, but I should be able to walk on it when it heals."

"Oh," Roy said again, but this time as a sigh. "That's—uh, that's good."

Roy couldn't believe he was being so awkward. Hughes was in the hospital because of him and he couldn't even speak to him like a normal person. It was just so hard to look at him. It made Roy's stomach roll with guilt. Even if he was alive and was going to heal from his injuries, it was so difficult to look at him when he felt like he was the one who caused it. He might as well have run over Hughes' leg with his car. Roy felt ashamed for even feeling guilty because he thought it was so selfish to not even be able to face Hughes.

"Yeah, but I blacked out from the pain. That must've been why they said that."

"Does it hurt now?" Roy asked stupidly.

"Eh...I'm on so much pain meds, I'm not even sure I'm awake right now." Hughes laughed again, a little more light-heartedly this time. "Goes without saying, but I'll be home for a couple of weeks, which I'm not going to complain about."

"Right..." Roy sighed. "I don't understand. I was just talking to you on the phone."

"Almost right after I hung up with you," Hughes started. "There was some make-shift bomb that went off in our base...apparently someone from Lior was hiding in our base waiting with it."

Roy's eyes went wide, "A bomb?"

Hughes nodded, "Yeah. There was so much smoke, I almost couldn't tell what was going on. I only felt a huge weight on my leg."

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure. I think it was a file cabinet." Hughes snorted. "How about that?"

Roy gaped at Hughes, unable to produce a response. He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"There wasn't even much damage," Hughes continued, "Really only me."

Roy almost moaned; his chest felt so tight.

"And then what happened?"

"Well, I..." Hughes trailed off as if trying to remember what happened. "I told you I blacked out."

"I find it hard to believe a file cabinet would be that heavy."

Hughes shrugged. "I'm not even sure if that's what it was. I just assume since I was near one when the bomb went off. There was so much smoke I couldn't tell one thing from another. I'm thinking it was a file cabinet on my leg and even something else on top of that."

"Hughes, I'm—"

Roy's throat tightened. He gritted his teeth, feeling almost like he couldn't breathe. He wanted to tell Hughes that he had lied right now. He couldn't bear seeing Hughes like this knowing that he's the one who caused it and then lied about it. He would've gone if he was able to! He would've been the one who was injured, not Hughes.

"Please don't apologize, Roy. You didn't do anything."

He screamed internally, I did! I did this to you! Roy itched to admit everything to Hughes, but it wouldn't come out of his mouth. Nothing would come out of his mouth. He wanted to say something, anything! Something that would at least allude to his guilt.

Roy stared at Hughes with wide eyes before putting his head in his hands. He couldn't even look at him anymore. It was too much. Sure, the injuries weren't as bad as they could be, but that hadn't meant Hughes wasn't still hurting. Moreover, how traumatic is it to be trapped while chaos ensued around you and you weren't even sure what was going on.

"Roy?" Hughes said and Roy heard him shift on the bed. "Are you alright?"

"It's not about me," Roy spat. "I—It's about you!"

"But I'm okay, Roy! It's all okay."

"You're..." He rose his head to see Hughes smiling. "Okay..."

"Besides, Roy, it's nothing when you can—"

"Don't say that," Roy said quickly. "I don't want to hear that."

"Okay, okay. I won't say anything."

The two were quiet for a few moments. In addition to wanting to tell Hughes that he had lied, there were still other things Roy wanted to talk to Hughes about. There were questions that Roy was waiting to ask.

"Why about Gracia?" Roy asked.

Hughes cocked his head. "What about her?"

"Why wasn't she your emergency contact? Why was it me?"

"Oh, well, I'd rather if something really bad happened to me that she didn't hear it on the phone," Hughes said uneasily. "And I'd rather she hear it from you, and not someone she doesn't know."

But who would tell me, Roy asked himself, some stranger? Roy felt an odd mix between pride at being the person who would bear any bad news about Hughes and jealousy at the thought Hughes put towards Gracia. But, of course, Hughes would put his attention and thought towards Gracia. Why would Roy expect any different?

Moreover, Roy had no right to be even remotely upset with any of Hughes' choices or actions considering he had lied to Hughes. It hadn't even been to protect Hughes, or even really to protect himself. It had been to protect his dirty little secret. The thing he was so desperate to keep private and away from other people.

No, that hadn't been why. He had done it to make Hughes proud and keeping any medical concern his doctor had (or his eating habits) came as an afterthought. What Roy had really wanted to do was keep that proud smile on Hughes' face.

There was still one last thing he needed to know...

"What about Private Zell?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Hughes. "I think I'm really the only person who was injured, considering no one else was admitted, that I know of. Gosh, luckily the medic was in my tent or...well, whatever. He should be fine, Roy."

"You're not just saying that, are you?"

"No, I'm not just saying that."

Roy nodded. "And what about you? How long is that gonna take to heal?"

"Eh, eight weeks? Maybe more? I have to get the cast adjusted every two weeks."

"Eight weeks, huh? And when will you be out of here?"

"Probably tomorrow morning," Hughes replied. "Considering it's really only my leg."

"Want me to pick you up?"

"You don't have—" Hughes cut himself off. "Sure, that would be great."

Roy opened his mouth to say one thing, but something else came out.

"Hughes, when I got that call...I thought I was gonna blackout."

Hughes almost looked embarrassed. He averted his gaze, shifting his eyes and then turning his head to the window on the other side of the room.

"I know, but let's just be happy that it wasn't anything. It was only because I was out that they said that."

"Hughes," Roy said, and then again when Hughes didn't look at him. "Look at me."

Hughes looked at Roy.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

How ironic. If Hughes had asked Roy that, he probably would've blacked out.

"No," Hughes said.

"Okay then." Roy pulled himself up, antsy to leave. "I'll let you call Gracia and get some rest. I'll be back tomorrow, alright?"

Hughes smiled, "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

Roy moved the chair back to its original spot and gave one last look to Hughes. He quickly turned around and moved to escape the room. He almost didn't want to leave, even though he was anxious to at the same time. He felt guilty leaving Hughes alone. But, he did have to go back to central. He went to open the door but the door had come towards him when he only laid on a hand the knob.

"Fuhrer Bradley," Roy said, saluting. "Hello, sir."

"Colonel Mustang," he said, looking over Roy's shoulder at Hughes. "Is he asleep?"

Roy quickly glanced back at Hughes who had his eyes closed, obviously feigning sleep.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll wait," Bradley said, slipping past Roy. "Your lieutenant is waiting for you."

"I know, sir. Thank you."

Quickly, Roy left the room and shut the door. He almost could laugh at the fact that Hughes had to pretend to wake himself up if things had been a little less tense.

Roy began to make his way back to the lieutenant, but something stopped him. He turned to go to the cafeteria instead. Roy slowly walked in, keeping his head low, and waited in line. He was so desperate to feel some type of relief or just...something. Roy felt so antsy and anxious that he was itching for something that would soothe him.

Whenever Roy threw up his food, there always came an almost instant surge of relief. He had been surprised at that and still found himself surprised every time. Of course, Roy was hungry, he was used to that, but he hadn't necessarily wanted something to eat.

He wanted something to throw up.

Roy grabbed something he was comfortable eating and something that wouldn't difficult to throw up, salad and soup. His old usual lunch. He made sure to grab a bottle of water, having found that drinking a lot of water while eating made it easier for his meal to come back up. Mechanically, Roy went to a table and sat down. He ate quickly, fast than he could ever remember eating. There wasn't taste, he was eating so quickly. Roy was uncomfortable with feeling his stomach fill, but it would be worth it when he went to the bathroom afterward.

Within seven minutes, Roy was finished. He rose slowly, his head still lowered, and made his way out of the cafeteria. He started his way to the bathroom, almost feeling as if he didn't care if someone was in there. What were they gonna do? Peer over the stall to see his face?

As he passed by the woman's bathroom, the door opened and Roy turned his head to see the lieutenant.

"Oh, Colonel, you're done?"

"Yeah," he rasped, preoccupied. "I just have to...use the restroom."

"Alright, sir. I'll be in the car."

Roy nodded and the lieutenant turned to leave. He opened the bathroom door, almost bursting into the room, to find that it was empty. Briefly, he thought about locking the door, but he hadn't. He went into a stall and, as he usually did at work, took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves. Also as he did at work, he wasted no time, still, anxious someone would come in even if they wouldn't know who he was necessarily. Though Roy had always washed his hands beforehand but this time he hadn't. He put his fingers in his mouth to bring up what he just ate. As he expected, instantly after he threw up the first time, he felt relief wash over him. He allowed himself only a few moments to bask in that feeling before putting his fingers in his mouth and throwing up again.

He threw up over and over until nothing had come up. He couldn't help but stare down into the toilet with wide eyes, frozen. Roy felt that he couldn't look away from what he just did. It was revolting, and it was only for a few moments of relief.

Roy's thoughts were disturbed when the door opened. Quickly, he took toilet paper, cleaned his face and hands, and put his jacket back on. He walked out of the stall with his hands in his pockets, foolishly thinking that if the man who came in saw his hands he would know what Roy did. He washed his hands and caught himself in the mirror, his eyes and nose were runny and he hadn't look good. Though, there wasn't much he could do about that but splash some water on his face and dry off.

Once he was out of the hospital and in the lieutenant's car, Roy gave an exasperated sigh. He hadn't meant to but he couldn't stop it before it came out. The lieutenant started her car and began driving; it wasn't long before she began asking Roy about Hughes.

"How was he?" she asked.

"He has a badly broken leg," Roy said. "He said he blacked out after and that's why they must've thought he was severely injured."

"Huh. How did he look?"

"Not bad," said Roy. "He had some scrapes on his face and a bandage, but otherwise he seemed fine...other than his leg."

Hawkeye only nodded. Roy knew "I don't think it's your fault" was lingering on her tongue. She just wasn't going to say it because she knew it would only serve to irritate Roy. Though he didn't believe it, he found himself almost saddened that she didn't say it. He needed to hear that, but Roy had shoved her off so many times that she wasn't going to say it.

He already wanted to go back to Hughes. He wanted to be at his side while at the same time he was happy to be going back to work.

Roy remembered when he and the rest of his team had moved from Eastern Command in East City to Central Command. Roy was over the moon to be in the same building as Hughes finally, even if he would constantly tell Hughes or anyone who asked the opposite. Roy was glad that he would be able to go to Hughes' office easily (and vice-versa) because Hughes was very apt at giving advice. He was constantly doling out insightful advice to whoever needed it, and Roy needed it a lot.

Then again, when Roy's eating habits became something he wanted to keep private, he had started to dislike Hughes and him being in the same building a bit. Hawkeye and the rest of his team were always going to be with Roy no matter what, so he had learned (or at least he thought so) how to hide it from them. Breda, Falman, Fuery, and Havoc never really worried Roy, because he knew he could keep his eating habits from them without them noticing. Or, rather, without questioning it or wondering about it. Roy supposed if he had concealed his weight loss somehow, perhaps Havoc would've never known anything at all. Hawkeye, on the other hand, had worried him because she knew him better than himself and she was always around him to observe, but she was usually bad at keeping things to herself when she wanted answers. As proven time and time again to Roy when she questioned his eating not once, not twice, but three times.

Hughes was different. Hughes would keep anything he was worried about to himself until he'd find the truth and then confront Roy. Unless he knew for sure that he was right, he wouldn't confront Roy outright. Unlike the lieutenant. Because of this, Roy could still not be sure what Hughes thought of his weight and eating habits.

"You saw the fuhrer?" Hawkeye asked.

"Yeah," replied Roy. "He came in right when I was leaving. Hughes pretended to be asleep and Bradley said he'd wait for him to wake up."

"Must've been important then." Hawkeye laughed, "Though it's funny to imagine Hughes faking to be asleep while the fuhrer is sitting there."

Roy allowed himself to laugh too. "That's what I was thinking."

When the two were back in the office, Roy briefed everyone about what happened. He made sure to start with the fact that Hughes had broken his leg and omitted that he had blacked out, as he thought it was irrelevant. When that was done, Roy thought to call Fullmetal. He felt a little uncomfortable doing so, but he knew that Hughes probably would be happy to see him. So, he decided to call.

"Yeah?"

Roy hated how Ed always picked up the phone like that.

"Fullmetal," he said. "I'm calling to tell you that Hughes is in the hospital—"

"What? Why?"

"Relax," said Roy, knowing Ed was already jumping to the worst. "He only broke his leg, but I thought that he—maybe go over there and annoy him so he forgets about his leg."

"Annoy him, huh?"

"He'll only be in the hospital until tomorrow when I take him home."

"Should I come today, then?"

"If you can," Roy said. "If not, then tomorrow but he'll be home."

Ed was quiet then.

"Why are you really telling me to see him?" he asked, finally.

"What do you mean?"

"Not to annoy him obviously," Ed said. "Is it because it's my fault that went to Lior?"

"What?" Roy scoffed, "Don't be stupid. I just thought you'd wanna know and I thought he'd like seeing you."

"Alright..." Ed trailed off dubiously. "I'll be there later today and I'll get a hotel."

"I'll get a room for you."

"You? Doing a favor for me?"

"It's only so you don't come around annoy me, don't take it as a favor."

Ed snickered. "Uh-huh...thanks for letting me know about Hughes. I'll see you tomorrow, probably."

Roy hung up the phone, his heart mourning at Ed's guilt. He knew that when he had spoken to Ed, he left the conversation still believing it was his fault there were riots in Lior. Roy had only assumed that Hughes told Ed he was going to Lior, considering the two had spoken the same day he spoke to Roy, but Roy wasn't sure. Hughes could've omitted that because he believed he would back sooner than he actually was.

Either way, Ed (and most likely Al) would probably do Hughes some good. Hughes had always liked seeing the boys.

He called the hotel Ed usually stayed at when he was in Central and booked a room.

With that out of his way, the colonel had some time to himself to think. He needed some time to think about Hughes and what he had done in the hospital. It frightened him that he seemed to lose control so quickly, almost as if he wasn't thinking about what he was doing and his body moved on its own. But, he had chosen to do that. He could've left the room and went to the lieutenant. He should've left the room and went to the lieutenant.

Roy hadn't thought that he would throw up to relax. It was supposed to before maintaining normalcy and putting on a bit of weight in a way that allowed him to manage it.

Well...with Hughes home, Roy wouldn't go to Lior. There wouldn't be a point in him being there; he should be home with Hughes. Moreover, the conflict in Lior was wrapping up...or it at least it had been before a bomb went off in their tent. Perhaps that meant they would be there longer.

Not only that but surely he couldn't be expected to be taking care of himself the best when he was worried about his closest friend...

That thought made Roy uneasy. He knew that his appetite would most likely fade naturally, as it usually did in high-stress situations, but still, it was definitely wrong to think of it as an excuse to not eat. Even still, he knew he was going to use it. "I'm worried about Hughes, I haven't had an appetite," he would say. Or, "Well, you know, I've been helping Hughes here and there, must've slipped my mind." He knew it was terrible for it to be on his mind, and even more terrible that he wouldn't ignore the thought.

How desperately Roy wanted everyone off his back! He wanted nothing more than to just be let alone!

Was that true though? He felt so lonely. All the time. Every time he got home, it was to an empty, dark house. He went to bed each night, alone, in his big bed. Constantly, he was always in his thoughts.

It was mind-numbing. Roy wanted to confide in someone so badly, to lean on someone. But, at the same time, he wanted desperately to keep everything to himself. He knew that in order to allow no one to be privy to his eating habits that would mean that he would have to make it so there was no one close to him. Having people close to him meant that they would also be concerned with him. If there was no one close to him, it also meant there was no one to lean on if he wanted. How confusing! If only he hadn't had his pride and could lean on someone for comfort without shame.

Roy wished that the whole Lior conflict never happened. Of course, even if his eating habits weren't something concerning those around him, he would also be wishing that. But, perhaps without that, there would be no need to throw up his food or even put back on any weight.

Well, there wasn't a need to put on weight. He knew that.

Roy decided that he would go back to his diet before and see how Hawkeye reacted, even if he knew it was terrible to use Hughes' injury as an excuse.

When it was time for Roy to leave, he picked up his new uniform, said a good-bye to Hawkeye, and left the office. He walked to his car, the uniform feeling absurdly heavy in his hands. Roy would be beyond humiliated if he were to outgrow this uniform. Realistically, it was either that or still having Hawkeye or anyone else suspicious of his eating habits.

He was completely wrapped in his thoughts and was thrown off-guard when Hawkeye came behind him.

"Sir? Would you like to come over for coffee? Or dinner?"

Roy turned his head to see her expectant face. If she hadn't added, "or dinner?" Roy would have said yes instantly, craving for someone to talk to about Hughes. After what he did in the hospital after seeing Hughes, Roy wasn't going to eat anything when he got home. He simply wanted to go home, exercise, and take a hot shower. Though, perhaps he could find a way to evade eating. Surely she wouldn't expect him to have an appetite after Hughes...

He realized he hadn't even an appetite to lie about not having.

"Sure," he said. "I could go for some coffee...as long as it's not as bad as the hospital."

"I'm sure I make better coffee than the hospital."

"We'll see about that Lieutenant. I barely remember what your coffee tastes like."

"Well, that's because you hardly ever come over anymore, sir."

Hawkeye was looking up at him, blinking at him as he tried to make an excuse. She gave a laugh, which Roy thought sounded terribly forced.

"I'll see you there, sir," she said.

Roy nodded and went into his car. He wanted to stop home and exercise but thought Hawkeye would question what took so long, and that was even if he said he went home to change. He figured that even if he did have to eat, he could at least purge it and exercise when he got home.

As he was driving to the lieutenant's, he felt a soothing calm wash over him. Roy was back in somewhat control; no matter what happened at the lieutenant's, he had a way to fix it.

"Oh, I thought you would've gone home and changed," Hawkeye said when she answered the door.

"I...I didn't want to drive home and then back here," Roy said. "What a waste of gas."

She rose a brow. "Sure...Well, I just put on the water for the coffee."

Roy followed Hawkeye into her living room, eyeing her blonde hair as she flipped it over her shoulders so it would rest on her back. He had met her with short hair and always had a soft spot for it. He had jokingly told her to cut it again and again, but Hawkeye had always laughed it off. Still, Roy liked seeing the lieutenant with her hair down since she only did so at home.

"So, when is Hughes leaving?"

"Tomorrow, he said. Since it is only his leg...I'll pick him up and drive him home."

"Would you like me to come, sir?"

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," Roy said. "Unless you wanted to see him?"

"I'd like to, but...I can see him at a different time. Go alone, sir."

"Alright." Roy paused, "Fullmetal might be there tomorrow. I think he blames himself."

"I do as well," Hawkeye said quietly. "I think you blame yourself too."

"I—" Roy hadn't seen a reason to lie. "I do."

"Sir, don't take this the wrong way, but I think feeling guilty for this is foolish; you or Edward."

Roy's throat and chest felt so tight that he almost moaned. He suddenly felt the urge to admit to the lieutenant that he had lied about Lior. As hard as it was to imagine Hughes reacting to Roy admitting to lying, it was almost even harder for Roy to imagine Hawkeye reacting. He hadn't known what Hawkeye would make of it. Roy figured she would link his eating habits and Lior together, but thought that was him probably overthinking.

Maybe not.

"Colonel," she began when Roy didn't respond. "You don't believe that Edward should feel guilty, am I correct?"

"Well, I understand why he would," he said, knowing where the lieutenant was going. "What else was the kid supposed to do? Allow the priest to keep his blind following?"

"Of course not. If Edward isn't to blame, then I don't believe you are either."

"That's hardly the same thing, Lieutenant."

"Why's that?"

"Well...I should've gone."

"I don't know if you should've. I understand why you didn't, and I don't know what I would've done. It's a matter of ethics. When it comes to that, there's nothing you should be doing that goes against that," the lieutenant said. "There's nothing that I think you should ever do that goes against your ethics."

Roy scoffed, "Like what? Ishval?"

"Well, I—" She widened her eyes at him and shifted uncomfortably. "That's different, sir. You didn't go...we didn't go thinking it was the right thing to do, necessarily; we did it because we were told to."

"So why can't I do that now?"

Before the lieutenant could respond, Roy spoke again. He didn't even know why he was arguing with her. He hadn't even made the choice not to go to Lior, why was he getting so defensive about it?

"I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated is all," he said. "I don't mean to push it on you."

"Sir, my point was I don't think you should blame yourself for doing what's right. Moreover, I don't think you should blame yourself for what someone else did."

But it would've happened to me if I was the one who went to Lior, Roy thought.

"Right."

"You don't believe me," she said. It was a statement, not a question.

"He's my best friend, it's hard to..." Roy trailed off. He allowed himself to be a little vulnerable, desperate for a little comfort from her. "To handle seeing him like that when I would've been in his place."

"I understand, but—" A kettle went off and she paused briefly at its high whistle and then went on. "I think that you should try and remove yourself from the situation. If it were someone else in your shoes, would you be blaming them for what happened to Hughes?"

Probably, Roy thought cynically. He could be quick to anger, so most likely he would blame someone else instead of having to feel poorly about Hughes.

Roy nodded, meaning that he understood what the lieutenant was trying to say. She stood up and went into the kitchen with Roy trailing behind her. She turned off the stove and grabbed the kettle. Roy watched as she poured the water over the filter, filling a pot below it with the coffee. She went in small circles, stopping briefly to watch the coffee drip and then resuming again.

"I promise you, it's plenty better than the hospital."

Roy leaned down to watch the coffee drip into the pot, the coffee starting to appear darker as more of it collected in the pot. "Sure."

"Well, with the cream and sugar you use, you probably can't even tell the difference."

He couldn't place why, but that comment had made Roy uncomfortable. He made sure that his feelings weren't evident on his face. It almost felt as if the comment about his weight, even though Roy knew reasonably it wasn't. He felt stupid and ashamed for even taking it that way.

"Very funny, Lieutenant," he said uncomfortably, hoping she wouldn't spot how uneasy he was.

After a few moments, she put the kettle in the sink and took off the plastic that held the filter off the coffee pot.

"Pour us cups," she said, throwing the filter with the used grounds in the trash.

"Alright," Roy said. He reached to the cabinet where she kept her mugs without even thinking, but opened it to see bowls and plates. "Where're the mugs?"

"Oh, I switched the cabinets." Hawkeye went back over to Roy and reach in the cabinet next to the one he opened. "Here."

She pulled two down and poured their coffees, despite telling Roy to do it. Wordlessly she gave the sugar to Roy and grabbed cream from the fridge. Roy almost felt like she was eyeing him the entire time he was putting in his cream and sugar, but she was only leaning on the counter and sipping her own coffee. Roy added his cream and sugar but was now overly cautious of how much he was adding. It had been the one thing he didn't concern himself with before when it came to his diet. He took a sip for a taste-test and although it wasn't to his liking he wasn't going to add more.

The lieutenant sat down at her dining room table and Roy sat down after her.

"Better than the hospital?"

Roy shrugged. "Eh..."

"I've tasted the one you make in the breakroom, yours isn't so great either."

"It's the damned coffee maker in the breakroom! That's why it's not so great."

"Mmm," Hawkeye hummed before taking a sip of her coffee. "Colonel, I'm glad it seems you're doing better."

"Oh," said Roy. "Well, I think fainting at HQ was a...catalyst of sorts. Kinda reminded me to get a grip on myself."

Hawkeye nodded.

"And, well, you, Lieutenant."

The lieutenant's eyebrows lifted slightly. She looked a little surprised, which Roy himself was surprised at. She had put her coffee down and smiled at Roy.

"I know I might've been a little overbearing about your eating habits," Hawkeye said. "Not to mention a little misguided, but it was only because I was concerned about you. It seemed like you were keeping everything to yourself...even more so than usual."

"I was," Roy tried to choke out the word. "Ashamed."

"I understand, sir."

Roy wasn't lying. He was not only ashamed of lying to the lieutenant, but he was ashamed of his eating habits. He knew that it was immature to be so consumed with his eating habits and weight, but also not to reach out for support. If he were to confide in Hawkeye or Hughes (or even Havoc, or anyone else in his team, not that he ever would) they would be nothing but happy to help him in any way they could. They wouldn't look down on him or think any less of him for it. However, they would think differently of him. That wasn't avoidable.

"Anyway," she continued. "I only wanted to say that to you, that I've noticed. I'm not asking you to...relinquish everything to me. If you're doing and feeling better, that's all I care about."

"Yeah." Roy smiled tightly. He had wanted to make sure that she definitely wasn't concerning herself with Roy or his eating habits. "I've been looking for a psychiatrist. The doctor recommended me one."

He was lying, of course, Roy wasn't seriously considering seeing one. He was too uncomfortable with confiding in other people, nevertheless a stranger, even if they couldn't tell anyone.

Roy thought again about confiding in Hughes. He was tired of feeling guilty after eating and constantly worrying about his weight. After his actions at the hospital, Roy knew he was...in too deep. His feelings and relationship with food was a coping mechanism, Roy was aware of that. Though, it seemed that eating specifically for the purpose of being able to throw it back up—opposed to eating more than usual and already knowing he was going to throw up for the purpose of keeping everyone off his tracks—was inherently to cope, not anything else. Roy didn't want to lose a crutch. Beyond any other reason for not confiding in any way else, that was also a reason Roy didn't want to confide in anyone.

"Oh?" Hawkeye's eyebrows went up again. "When might you start?"

"I'm not sure. I'll have to see."

The lieutenant smiled again at Roy. He hoped that would suffice as proof that he was trying to better himself, which couldn't be further than the truth. In fact, perhaps from the first time, the Lieutenant had mentioned Roy's weight to now Roy was probably worse off. At least then he hadn't been forcing himself to puke.

"I can't stop thinking about Hughes," Roy admitted quietly. "I'm glad it wasn't anything too serious, but I really...I really can't help but feel guilty."

"I understand that sir, but as I said—"

"I know, I know." Roy took a sip of his coffee, grimacing at the taste. "It's only—"

Roy stopped suddenly. It's only, what? Because he lied to Hughes? And that's why he had gotten injured in Lior? The sole reason Hughes went to Lior was that Roy hadn't gone. From the start, Roy should have been honest. Still, Roy knew he would feel guilty about Hughes' injuries even if he was honest, but at least there wouldn't be this huge looming lie above his head all the time.

"It's only what, sir?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

The two went quiet, both sipping at their coffee intermittently.

Roy's thoughts went to his new uniform. The one he currently wore was currently a little big on him while the new one would fit him and fit him well. If he were to put on weight, Roy would have to go about getting a new, new uniform. He would rather die than even think about having to do that. The thought alone filled him with intense dread. He thought briefly about wearing his old uniform but quickly dismissed the idea at remembering the new uniform looked to be a darker blue. Surely someone, a superior especially, would notice if he was wearing the old one.

Of course, he couldn't help but feel the urge to confide in Hawkeye. Maybe then all this constant worrying and embarrassment about his weight would be over.

But he couldn't. It was either all or nothing. There wasn't telling Hawkeye (or anyone else) and still being able to keep control of his diet at the same time. There was leaning on someone for help and there was not leaning on someone for help.

Before Roy could think too much, fortunately, the lieutenant began talking about her close friend 2nd Lieutenant Rebecca Catalina. Roy figured she was simply trying to steer the conversation to something where Roy could turn his brain off. He had always liked Rebecca and found her ditsy personality enjoyable to be around. Unlike Roy and Hawkeye, she never took herself too seriously.

"I still think that they would make a good couple, Havoc and her."

"You're just saying that because they're both single and they're both miserable when it comes to romance," said Roy, laughing softly. "Though, I always thought they were quite similar."

"When I met Havoc, I thought he was like the male version of Rebecca."

Roy had noticed that Hawkeye always referred to Catalina by her first name, similar to Hughes with Roy. Dissimilar to Hughes, Hawkeye would call her by her last name while they were at work or refer to her as such when she wasn't around. Roy wondered if when he wasn't around and she and Catalina would chat, did the lieutenant refer to him by his first name?

Hughes calling Roy by his first name had always embarrassed her when anyone was around. Because Roy was a rank higher than Hughes, it was out of place especially for Hughes to call Roy by his first name. When the two were alone, Roy always felt a small, warm sense of comfort in his chest whenever Hughes would say his name. It was always a nice little thing that Roy had with Hughes; Hughes always referring to Roy by his first name and a couple of times getting in trouble by superiors of the two of them for doing so. Just as Hughes called Roy his first name by habit (usually remembering to call Roy by his last name in front of superiors), Roy called Hughes by his last name out of habit. He hadn't ever done it to assert his rank. Though...sometimes it was easier to put a wall between him and Hughes whenever he needed to because he hadn't ever called Hughes by his first name.

"I thought that too, but the opposite, obviously. But Catalina doesn't date anyone she works with, right?"

"No, she says it's in bad taste, which I understand." Hawkeye rolled her eyes playfully, "Of course that doesn't stop her from telling me to pursue you."

Roy smirked, "That's something you wanna pursue?"

Hawkeye flushed, "Sir, of course not."

"Why of course? Why not just no?"

The lieutenant laughed, throwing her head back uncharacteristically. Roy couldn't help but smile to himself.

"Well, anyway," she said. "Are you staying for dinner?"

She seemed to be asking it innocently enough; it wasn't as if she was asking "are you going to at all this evening?" So badly he wanted to stay, to continue this nice conversation, to see her throw her head back laughing again. He wanted nothing more than that.

But he hadn't wanted to eat. He wanted to go home and exercise and go to bed early.

Roy ached for normalcy. A different type of normalcy, the old normalcy, where he wasn't constantly anxious about his food intake and would gladly stay for dinner at the lieutenant's house for dinner. Or, at least the old type of normalcy where throwing up what he ate afterward was off the table.

"Sure," Roy said. "I'll stay."

Hawkeye could barely contain her excitement at his response. She grinned brightly before taking a sip of her coffee.

"So, tomorrow, you'll go and pick up Hughes? Are you sure you don't need me there, sir?"

Roy chewed on it. "Actually, no. Come, Lieutenant. I don't know if I'll need the help or not."

"Alright." She sipped again on her coffee. "I wonder what the fuhrer wanted to talk to him about."

Roy gave a low whistle, "Me too. I wonder if Hughes even pretended to wake up or just waited until he left."

"I'd have a hard time doing that. The fuhrer seems like the type of man who could wait a long time if he wanted."

"Oh, but he's so busy," Roy said sardonically. "Surely he doesn't have everyone under him do all his work."

"Surely, sir."

The two then laughed. The lieutenant went on to talking about Catalina again and Roy's mind went to dinner. What was she making? Roy wondered if he should throw up here or wait until he got home. He did have a twenty-minute drive home, though, so perhaps it was best to do it at the lieutenant's house. Would she be suspicious about that? Him going to the bathroom after he ate? She hadn't seemed to be while they were at work. Maybe it would be different here, or maybe she was already suspicious and just wasn't telling Roy.

That would be bad. If she was waiting to confront Roy, just as she had done before. Most likely she wasn't, Roy thought to himself. Because she had failed to do it once, she wasn't going to do it again. He decided as he did last time, that he couldn't do anything more without her saying anything about it. If he were to ever, ever mention anything about purging—why in the world would he?—of course the lieutenant would be able to obviously pick up on what Roy was doing.

Moreover, besides her being suspicious, it felt...wrong to do it at Hawkeye's home. It would feel almost as if he was disgracing her home if he were to do that. Roy hadn't wanted to ruin the sort of "safe space" that the lieutenant's house was. He would feel uncomfortable entering anytime afterward...

But...he didn't want to wait because of the drive home.

"Colonel? Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Roy shook his head. "I'm sorry I'm just thinking about—"

"Hughes?"

"Yeah..." Roy trailed off. "Sorry."

"It's alright, sir." She was quiet for a few moments. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Roy allowed himself to think for a few moments. He did want to talk about Hughes, even if Hawkeye didn't fully know the situation. It felt like Roy was constantly stifled as if he had to stop his thoughts from coming through his mouth all the time. Even if he was usually a private person, keeping the reason for not being in Lior a secret made him feel like suddenly everything was a secret. Constantly, he felt the strange urge to blurt out all of his secrets just so he wouldn't always feel so on edge about someone finding out.

"I don't know what else there is to talk about, Lieutenant. I understand that I shouldn't feel so guilty, but," Roy thought he could vomit from lying so easily, "I still do."

"Okay," she said. "I won't try to change your mind, sir, if you'd like to talk about it."

"I don't know," Roy sighed. He let his head fall. "Lieutenant..."

He could hear her shift in her seat. "Sir?"

"I just can't stop feeling like I did when I got the call," said Roy without lifting his head. "I know it's not much that happened to him, but I can't stop thinking about if it had been severe."

"But it hadn't."

He lifted his head finally, "But if it had been?"

"But it hadn't," the lieutenant repeated. "There's no use worrying about as if it had been, sir. I understand feeling guilty, but I don't understand worrying about if it had been severe when he's not in Lior."

Roy put his coffee down and pinched his eyes shut with his hand. "I know, I know. Gosh, I just...forget it."

"I'd rather not, sir."

Roy took in a deep breath and pushed it out through his nose, trying to keep his composure. He kept his hand over his eyes as to not alert her to the irritation bubbling in him. He was at her house after all; he wasn't going to lose his temper with her.

"You don't understand, Lieutenant," he said, his voice wavering with annoyance. "You couldn't understand."

"Sir, I only meant that it's important that you don't keep dismissing your own feelings."

Embarrassment and shame heated Roy's cheeks. He moved his hands away from his face, hoping the heat on his face wasn't as noticeable as he thought it was. He knew he shouldn't be getting irritated with the lieutenant. She was only looking out for Roy. He hadn't wanted to discuss Hughes mostly because he was lying, not necessarily because he felt bad about Hughes himself. If things were different, Roy would probably be ranting angrily about Lior and the fact that Hughes had to go. But he hadn't been ranting angrily, because he didn't have the right to.

Surely the lieutenant wouldn't pick up on that. Right? Roy asked himself. Hawkeye wouldn't realize why Roy was being so evasive.

All this overthinking was making him dizzy.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," Roy sighed again. "I just want him to be home and with his family."

"I know. He will tomorrow, sir."

Roy shifted anxiously. "Can we stop talking about it now?"

"Well, I—" Hawkeye cut herself off, bowing her head sightly. "Alright, sir."

After that, the two felt uncomfortably quiet. At least Roy was uncomfortable. He could make things so tense because of his emotions; he couldn't even begin to count how many conversations or moments that had been ruined because Roy became frustrated with himself or the situation, or both.

If Roy were to tell the lieutenant about his lie to Hughes, she would react better than Hughes surely. That being true, it was hard to figure out exactly how she would react. The lieutenant would be disappointed of course, but Roy hadn't imagined her being angry at him. Hughes would be. Whether or not Hughes did anything out of anger, Roy couldn't be sure. Considering Hawkeye wasn't the one effect by Roy's lie, it wasn't probable that the lieutenant would be angry with him. The thing the lieutenant would probably feel the most is confusion. She would ask why Roy had lied. If Roy told her that it to appease Hughes, he would only be lying again.

If he were, to tell the truth, the whole truth, to her it would involve confessing his eating habits to the lieutenant. He supposed he wouldn't have to do that; he could always just say that he wanted to keep his health concerns private, which wasn't exactly a lie. Though, what was the point of being honest while omitting some of the truth.

For Hughes, there wasn't an option not to tell him. Hughes was the one person that had to hear the truth from Roy himself and not hear something from someone else. Hughes at least deserved that. Never mind the headache it would be if Hughes found out that Roy had lied on his own.

"I should get started on dinner," said Hawkeye suddenly, her mug empty.

"I'll help."

"That's okay, sir."

Hawkeye rose from her seat and moved to the kitchen. Roy craned her neck to watch her; her kitchen and dining room only being separated by different flooring so Roy and Hawkeye could clearly hear and see each other, only a few feet apart. She lowered herself and produced a pot from the lower cabinet. Roy watched as she filled it with water, added a pinch of salt, and set it on the stove.

"What're you making?" Roy asked, having a feeling he knew the answer.

"Pasta," she replied, not turning to look at him. "Is that alright?"

"Sure," Roy said uneasily. Hawkeye took out a jar of sauce from the lazy-susan cabinet. "That's fine."

The last time Roy had pasta was only a week ago. He and Havoc had gone to lunch and Havoc got pasta so Roy had gotten it too. It was incredibly difficult to get back up, even with the loads of water he was gulping down along with it. Fortunately, no one had knocked on the bathroom door (the restaurant had single bathrooms, instead of bathrooms with stalls and urinals which Roy was always thankful for whenever he was in one similar) while he was trying to get it back up. He thought he could almost pop a blood vessel from throwing up so much. After a few times, he began to feel anxious and hyper-aware of Havoc waiting for him back at their table. If he didn't throw up at the lieutenant's house and instead of waiting until he got home, surely it would be near impossible to even feel like all of it was back up.

Before that lunch with Havoc, it had been a long while since Roy had eaten pasta.

Roy suddenly realized the lieutenant had been speaking to him.

"It doesn't make much sense to me, but I guess that's beside the point."

"Hmm," Roy hummed, hoping she would just continue while Roy tried to grasp what she was talking about.

"I think Rebecca just doesn't understand that her superiors aren't out to get her," the lieutenant said. "It isn't as if they want to see her fail as a soldier and not get promoted."

"Sometimes it can feel like that," Roy mumbled. "Like no one wants to see you do as good as them."

"I don't think that's true, sir."

"I didn't say it was, only that it feels like that."

The lieutenant shrugged, peering into the pot and stirring it. She hadn't said anything further, thankfully. While she was finishing up, Roy kept thinking about his new uniform. He was completely filled with dread. He was stuck between putting on weight to lower suspicion and maintaining his weight to fit in his uniform. The latter seemed less anxiety-inducing while the former might only continue to add stress and worry of people finding out his eating habits. Especially now, there was no way of evading the accusation of an eating disorder. Surely if Hawkeye (or the doctor...) reignited that suspicion, they wouldn't dismiss so easily this time.

"Alright, finished." She turned to face Roy. "Would you like some wine, Colonel?"

Roy swallowed, "Sure..."

Hawkeye poured wine and plated their dinners for them. She brought Roy's to the table, and then her own, and sat down. Roy stared down at his plate, his stomach rolling. He willed himself to simply start eating to no avail. Instead, he took a small sip of wine.

"Colonel, are you alright?"

It felt like Roy was lifting a huge stone instead of just his head to look up at the lieutenant. "Yes," he said lowly.

"Are you sure, sir? You look a little pale and...preoccupied."

"I'm—"

"Still thinking about Hughes?"

Roy shifted in his seat. "Well..."

"Talk to me, Colonel," the lieutenant said. "I won't try to change your mind, just tell me what you're feeling."

"You already know, Lieutenant."

Here he was, already using Hughes' injury as an excuse to get out of eating.

"I know, but...talk to me about it."

The lieutenant's face was one of pure concern and desperation. She had put her fork down and was sitting leaning slightly forward, her lips slightly parted. Roy felt guilty for making her worry, especially since she was concerned about the wrong thing.

"I just want to see him okay," Roy said quietly. "I know he must be blaming me too, and he won't ever admit that to me."

"I don't think—" Hawkeye cut herself off. "Okay."

Roy was silent for a few moments. There were things lingering on Roy's mind that didn't involve what Roy was lying about...

"And I'm worried about what he might've done there that he's not telling me."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like something he might've also done in Ishval."

"I heard things were going smoothly there."

"So did I," said Roy. "Who said Hughes, or anyone else, isn't lying about that?"

"I doubt that's the case."

"I...I don't know," he said. "I have to talk to him about it."

"Okay. You can tomorrow, sir."

"I know, I—" Roy quickly glanced down at his plate. "I'm sorry I can't eat this. I'm too—I can't stop thinking about Hughes."

"Too what, sir?"

Initially, Roy had thought Hawkeye caught onto the ruse; that he was using Hughes' injury to evade eating. He realized that the reason the lieutenant was pressing was that she wanted Roy to admit to what he was feeling.

"Too anxious," he admitted quietly. At least he could tell the truth about that. "My stomach is in knots."

The corner of her lip itched to go up. Roy could tell that she was pleased he had said that to her.

"Alright. I understand, sir."

Roy pulled himself to his feet, bracing himself on the table. "I'm sorry...I should go. I have to be up early for Hughes...we have to be up early for Hughes. I'm sorry," he said again.

"It's okay, sir," she said, standing up. "Get some rest. We'll take my car tomorrow since there's more room, I'll pick up in the morning, alright?"

"Alright," said Roy. "I'm sorry."

"Please stop apologizing, sir. It's really okay."

Roy nodded, almost stumbling away from the table. He was making such a fool of himself on his way out as Hawkeye saw him to his car. Once she finally closed the door and couldn't see Roy in his car, he sighed heavily and put his head in his hands.

It felt like one lie kept being stacked on top of the last.


	9. Verge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! After three months, it's finally here! Sorry for taking so long, but I hope you enjoy! And, a warning as always, this chapter has pretty intense scenes about Roy's eating disorder (similar to past chapters) so PLEASE read wearily if it could be a trigger.

When Hawkeye closed the front door, she put her back to it and leaned against the wall. Maybe she shouldn't have let the colonel leave, maybe she should've kept him here and talked to him more. But how could she do that? The colonel could be overly private and stubborn when it came to personal matters; he wasn't going to simply sit back down if she asked and say to her, "Sure, Lieutenant, I'll talk about my feelings with you."

The colonel had been incredibly distracted. She thought that he was probably most likely barely even listening to her the entire time.

When the colonel had agreed to come over, Hawkeye was surprised. She had thought that he would at least try and visit Hughes again while visiting hours were still going. Maybe he wanted to do that, maybe he was going to do that. It was probably better that he hadn't. It would only serve to dig him deeper into his own guilt. She wished he wouldn't feel so guilty for something that wasn't his fault, but when it came to the lieutenant colonel, she wasn't ever going to convince the colonel of the opposite of what he believed.

How much was it like the colonel's luck for right when he was getting back on his feet that this would happen? He had always groused about having bad luck and the lieutenant dismissed it, but now she was starting to see what he meant by it.

Unlike the colonel, Hawkeye knew that lamenting over what she should've done wasn't going to change anything. She thought she should finish her dinner and get to bed. The colonel was tomorrow Hawkeye's problem, not tonight's anymore.

* * *

The entire ride home from the lieutenant's was a nightmare. Roy drove too fast and then, when he realized how fast he was going, started going entirely too slow.

Before Roy could get home, he glanced briefly at his watch. There was still some time for visiting hours...maybe he should go see Hughes. Although, maybe Gracia was there now. Without much of a second thought, Roy felt himself driving to the hospital instead of his house. Even if Gracia was there, he could always simply go home. He had only wanted to see him again, even if it just meant sitting at his side.

Roy couldn't be sure what the lieutenant was thinking of him leaving how he did. She probably had some suspicion that Roy was only leaving to avoid eating, but he almost didn't care. He was just happy to be out of sight of her watchful, calculating gaze, never mind hopefully being able to see Hughes again. Having her press consistently on him made Roy uneasy, to say the least. It wasn't rational to think that Hawkeye knew that Roy had lied about Lior and that's why she was pressing about why Roy felt so guilty about Hughes, but...being asked about it over and over again could make someone quite irrational.

Lying could always do that. Even before Roy knew that Hawkeye was suspicious of his eating, Roy always felt like she was. It seemed because he was thinking of it, everyone else was too. It was hard to feel that because of that, everyone also knew. Though, then again, Hawkeye always seemed to be able to read Roy's mind.

It felt nice to sit and chat with her again in a way, but considering that he was absorbed heavily in his thoughts, it hardly felt natural. Roy ached to be able to have a coffee with the lieutenant while thinking of nothing other than what she was saying.

Roy pulled into a parking spot at the hospital. He got out of his car and slowly walked to the doors of the hospital. He scanned the parking lot as best as he could for Gracia's car and he hadn't seen it but thought perhaps he maybe only just missed it.

"I'm here to see Maes Hughes, I—"

"You were here earlier, right?"

"Well—"

The woman at the desk smiled up at Roy, "You know where he is. Go right ahead."

Roy returned the smile and made his way to Hughes' room, hoping he was alone and awake. He rapped softly and waited a few moments for a response.

"Yes...?" He heard Hughes ask. "Who is it? Come in."

Roy opened the door and poked his head in. "It's me. Surprised?"

Hughes smirked. "Nope. Not at all. Please tell me you have food with you."

"No, sorry." Roy walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He sat down in the same chair he had before, scooting it closer to Hughes' bed. "What? They don't feed you here?"

"You know as well I do that the food here is hardly edible," said Hughes.

Roy thought for a moment. "So Gracia didn't come, then? Surely she would've brought you something."

"Oh, of course, she did! But she hadn't brought Elysia in case something really bad happened," Hughes mumbled. "So, she left pretty quickly. I told her you were bringing me home, so I'll see her again then."

"Mmm. You want me to grab you something?"

"No, no. I ate only an hour ago anyway...barely, but," Hughes laughed. "I'll be asleep soon enough."

Roy nodded. He allowed himself to relax in his seat, wanting to give Hughes his full attention.

"You seem in a better mood than before," said Hughes.

"Yeah...well, I was worried before."

"Understandably," replied Hughes. "I'm not sure how I would react if our positions were switched."

Roy didn't want to mention that their positions should've been switched, afraid the Hughes would go on about how he was glad that Roy could've stayed out of Lior. He hadn't known how exactly to respond to that, so he decided to stay quiet. He wondered if Hughes could tell what he had wanted to say.

"Ed called me," said Hughes. "He was supposed to be coming tonight as well."

"Really?" Roy looked at his watch. "It's getting late..."

"Well, he said if he could make it on time...but I guess that's not happening."

A pause.

"I know he probably feels bad," Hughes said quietly. "Like what's happening in Lior is his fault."

"Yeah. He just about freaked out when he found out. He came barging in my office."

"I can only hope he forgives himself," Hughes replied. "Although I can't imagine Ed doing that."

"Right."

Roy partially regretted coming. The air in the room was so thick and so awkward, Roy wanted to run out, jump in his car, and leave. But, he felt like he owed it to Hughes to be at his side while he was stuck at the hospital, even if it was only the night. Roy wondered if Hughes was simply being polite by letting Roy sit with him. Although it was early to be going to sleep, Roy figured that Hughes must be tired.

"Are you tired, Hughes? Do you want me to go?"

Hughes sat up straighter. "Do I look tired?"

"Yes."

"Well, only a little."

"Only a little? As in you want me to leave but only a little?"

"Do you want to leave?"

"What? No, but I feel like..."

Hughes cocked his head to the side. "What's the matter, Roy?"

"I'm sorry, Hughes," Roy rasped. "I'm sorry you're here."

"Roy, please, for the last time—"

"No, let me speak."

So, Hughes went quiet, letting Roy speak. Only Roy didn't know what to say. He almost was going to tell Hughes everything. Everything. His worries about his weight, his eating habits, Lior, and even throwing up. All of it. Roy could almost feel the words rising in him that wanting to come from his mouth.

Was he crazy? While Hughes was here? In the hospital? Maybe that was almost better, so he could leave if things went bad. But he was supposed to pick up Hughes tomorrow...

Roy knew he had to tell Hughes, at least about lying about Lior for sure. It was simply a matter of when not if. He also figured it was probably only a matter of time before his eating habits were found out as well, despite how desperately he wanted to keep them to himself. Perhaps Roy just needed to be honest to him, maybe that would make things better. Maybe his relationship with Hughes would feel less strained.

Or maybe it would ruin everything.

He couldn't lose Hughes, especially not over some lie. Hughes was too important to lose. Was it worth it having a strained relationship over no relationship at all?

"Roy? You alright?"

"I'm..." Roy trailed off, letting his head fall. "I'm just so sorry..."

Hughes was quiet, instead of telling Roy not to be sorry. He probably knew better than that, for Roy would just dismiss it.

"Roy?" Hughes said again. "Were you drinking?"

"No!" Roy looked up immediately. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

"You're acting very strange," said Hughes. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Oh, if only he knew...

"No, no...I just feel—" Roy cut himself off. "Hughes, I just feel really guilty for what happened to you."

"I understand, Roy."

"No...you don't..."

"So make me understand. Please."

Hughes was looking at Roy with a pleading face. he had only wanted Roy to feel better, to allow himself to unburden himself on Hughes. Roy felt even worse. It felt like he couldn't pull himself together and simply say to Hughes, "I'm sorry" and allow Hughes to forgive him. It was obvious he was omitting something now.

"I only mean that we've never been in another situation like this. You've never made me get injured."

"Roy, please, it's alright. Hardly anything happened to me."

Roy let his head fall again, "I know."

Hughes relaxed back into the bed.

"Let's talk about something else," said Hughes. "Alright?"

Roy shouldn't have come. He should have gone right home after leaving the lieutenant's. There was no reason to be here; he was going to see Hughes tomorrow morning anyway. He was just digging himself deeper. Hughes was going to figure...something out.

"I was at the lieutenant's house...for dinner," Roy said. "But I...had to excuse myself. I wanted to see you."

Hughes frowned. "You should've stayed."

"So you don't want me here then?

"No, no. Why do you keep saying that?" Hughes shook his head. "I just know Hawkeye was probably happy to have you."

"Right. I know," Roy said awkwardly. Then rambled, "She's going to come with me tomorrow to bring you home."

"Oh, huh."

It was too awkward. Nothing felt right.

Roy's mind floated to what he had eaten during the day, as it usually did when things felt tense. He had eaten more than he liked, even if he did throw it back up. He felt hungry but knew he wasn't going to eat when he got home. Roy could at least feel some sense of comfort with that, knowing that anything that he had put in his body (barring the coffee earlier at the hospital and at the lieutenant's house), he had gotten back out. Or tried to at least.

Weirdly, he also thought about what Hughes had eaten during the day. He had said that he had only eaten a little bit of his dinner, but had it eaten anything earlier in the day? Probably something...

Why was he thinking about this?

"Well, I should—"

The door whined opened slowly.

"Lieutenant Hughes!" It was Ed. He came to Hughes' bedside. "You don't look too bad..."

Al trailed in behind him, holding a basket in his hand. He nodded at Roy and Roy nodded back. Roy looked up at Ed, who was scanning Hughes' body to see what was wrong.

"Yeah, I'm alright." Hughes smiled. Roy had wished the smile was at him instead. "What's in the basket?"

"Pie," replied Al. "From Winry. We were in Resembool when Colonel Mustang called Ed."

"Not as good as Mrs. Hughes'," Ed said. "But she tries."

Roy again felt bad for coming empty-handed.

"I'll see if I can find plates and utensils for us," Al said, before slipping out of the room and leaving the pie in Ed's hands.

Was Al expecting Roy to have some pie? Maybe he should leave like he was going to before...

"Colonel, you're looking worse for wear."

"Thanks, Fullmetal," Roy spat. "Just what I wanna hear."

Ed shrugged.

Roy was trying to will himself to leave. He was going to just before, but couldn't get himself to get up. For some reason, he didn't want to leave Hughes. It was humiliating to leave (even if no one else knew the reason) over a slice of pie. Roy didn't wanna allow himself to be controlled by something so stupid.

Ed sat at the edge of Hughes' bed. Roy already knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Not you too, Ed. Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong."

"But what's happening in Lior..."

"is happening because of Father Cornello, not you, Ed."

"But—"

"No. No 'buts'." Hughes pulled himself to sit up. "You did something good, Ed. Any bad that resulted from that is the of Father Cornello."

Roy was bouncing his gaze back and forth while Ed and Hughes spoke. He had expected Ed to continue arguing with Hughes about how it was his fault, but...he hadn't. He sighed and nodded.

"You're right," said Ed. "It's not like I would change what I did there."

Hughes smiled, "Exactly."

The three sat in awkward silence until Al came back with paper plates and plastic forks.

"Okay!" Al grinned. "We're all having some, right?"

"Of course," said Ed. Ed opened the basket and looked down at the pie. "Now I know your wife usually makes apple pie, but she had given Winry this recipe for a cherry pie that's awesome."

"Oh..." Hughes looked to Roy. "Looks like Roy isn't having any."

Roy almost couldn't believe his luck.

"Nope," he said. Ed quirked up a brow. "Allergic to cherries."

"I never knew that."

"Why would you?" Roy asked. "That's alright, just have it without me, I don't mind."

"Wouldn't care if you did," Ed quipped. Typical.

As Al cut the slices of pie for himself, Ed, and Hughes, Roy couldn't help but feel a little left out. He was grateful that he didn't have to turn down the pie on his own, that Hughes had already produced a ready excuse, but he wished he could enjoy it like the rest of them. Food could be one of those things that helped to bring people together, Roy knew that. He thought about all the times where he and the lieutenant had shared dinner and laughed livelily. Or, all the time Hughes invited Roy over for dinner with his family. Roy thought back to times where he wasn't obsessed over what he was eating.

Roy had tuned out whatever Ed, Al, and Hughes were saying. He was too busy thinking about all the meals he's ruined with people because he couldn't stop obsessing over what he was about to eat.

"I should go," Roy said. "I should get home and get some sleep."

"You look like you could use it, Colonel," Al said. "Well—I only mean, I only mean that you look tired, is all."

"I know." Roy rose from his seat. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hughes. Fullmetal—"

"You wanna get lunch tomorrow?" Ed asked around a mouthful of a bite of pie. "After you take Hughes home?"

"I—" Roy opened his mouth and shut it when he looked at Ed's face. He couldn't help but feel there was a reason why Ed was asking him to lunch. It felt as if Ed wanted to discuss something because he wouldn't go out of his way to spend time with Roy. The paranoid part of Roy felt like Ed wanted to discuss his eating habits, but that wasn't possible. The more rational part, though, knew that Ed most likely wanted to talk about Lior and Hughes. "Sure, we can go."

"Alright," Ed said, putting his head back down to his plate. "See ya tomorrow, Colonel."

Before he could escape, Hughes called his name. He turned around slowly.

"Yes...?"

"Can you grab me clothes for tomorrow?" Hughes asked. "Drop my house and just ask Gracia for something?"

"Well, I—Sure."

Hughes flashed a grin and Roy's chest ached. "Thanks, Roy."

Roy tried to mimic his smile miserably.

Finally, he left the room and then the hospital. Roy made his way back to his care and then got started on the ride to Hughes' house.

The idea of seeing Gracia made his heart race. What if she simply slammed the door on him for being the Hughes was in the hospital. It didn't seem like something she would ever do, but Roy wasn't sure how Hughes in the hospital could make her act. Surely, the two had talked...right? Roy thought perhaps Hughes had preemptively thought about how Gracia would think about him going to Lior in Roy's place and maybe it hadn't mentioned that part.

But maybe he had.

Roy went up to the front door of Hughes' house feeling as if his body weighed a ton; it felt like a huge effort to simply move each leg. With a lump in his throat, he rapped on the door softly. He heard some shifting and moving around through the door and then appeared Gracia's smiling face.

"Roy! Hi," she said, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here for Hughes..."

"Aren't you driving him home tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. I meant I'm here on an errand for him. Clothes for tomorrow when I pick him up?"

Roy was speaking so mechanically and militant it was embarrassing. He should be more intimate with her and less formal, especially since she was being so nice to him. Maybe Hughes hadn't spoken to her...

"Oh, of course! Come in, come in." Gracia opened the door for Roy to enter and closed it behind him. "Can I get you anything, coffee or anything?"

"Um..." He thought about asking for coffee but didn't when he recalled Hawkeye's comment about how he took it. "No thanks, I'm okay."

"Alright." Gracia motioned to the couch. "Have a seat. I'll be right back."

Roy sat on the couch and Gracia went upstairs. Elysia was probably asleep at this time, it was getting late, Roy thought listlessly. He bounced his leg anxiously, wanting to leave as soon as possible. He felt so uncomfortable being in Hughes' house now. Gracia probably did know that Roy was the reason Hughes was in Lior and maybe she was just waiting for Roy to leave to be mad. Maybe she was only faking to be alright with Roy, maybe she actually—

"Okay, here you go!"

Roy looked up suddenly to see Gracia standing with clothes for Hughes in her hands with sneakers atop of them. Roy stood up and took them from her.

"Are you sure you don't want anything, Roy? Have you eaten already?"

"Of course I ate," Roy said quickly. Realizing how weird the reply was, he added. "I mean, I ate at the lieutenant's."

That was a lie.

"Oh, well," She trailed off. "Well, if that's it..."

Roy shifted uncomfortably. "Is something wrong?"

"Not quite. I just—" Gracia sat down. "I just want to talk to you."

Hughes told her. Hughes told her and she was angry. She was going to tear Roy apart. Tell him what a bad friend he was for letting Hughes go to Lior in his place. He wanted to just run away and into his car. But, what would Hughes think of that when he would hear of it? That his friend wasn't man enough to face his actions? Oh, if Hughes only knew how true that statement only was...

Roy willed himself to relax. Maybe she was only worried and wanted someone to talk to.

"Oh," Roy said. It came out as a moan. "I have to—I mean I—tomorrow I have to—"

"Relax, Roy, I'm not mad at you, or something like that," she said. She tapped the spot next to her on the couch. "I only want to talk."

Roy sat down slowly. "O-Okay..."

"I just wanted to tell you that I don't blame you, Roy."

Roy wanted to play stupid and ask "for what?" He wanted to...

Instead, he gave a huge sigh of relief. "You don't? Because I blame me."

"You do?" Gracia asked. "Maes said you did, but I don't understand why."

"Because I..."

Another person he'd be lying to about Lior.

"I feel as though my not going is why he's there. Well, I know that's why he's there...or was there."

"I understand that, but I thought you weren't going because you didn't think it was right to be there," said Gracia. "But Maes doesn't seem to think it's a problem. I understand you think it's going to be similar to Ishval, but—"

"I didn't want Hughes doing something he'd regret...like in Ishval."

"Well, that's his choice. You were asked to go, and declined, and Maes was asked to go, and he did. It's not like you requested he specifically go instead of you...right?"

"No! No, of course not." Roy averted his eyes. "I made some stupid comment when I found we disagreed about Lior...something like if he crossed his fingers maybe he'd get to go."

Gracia was quiet so Roy looked back to her to see her face. She was frowning.

"But you were only upset, Roy. I'm sure he understands." She sighed, "You really don't have anything to feel guilty about. It seems like if they hadn't chosen you in the first place they would've chosen Maes anyway."

"Right, but I..."

Roy trailed off. Without explaining the truth, it seemed like Roy's guilt was unfounded, almost. Surely it was somewhat understandable, but Gracia was right. If they hadn't picked Roy, they probably would've picked Hughes. But, it was different when Roy lied about why he wasn't going to Hughes. It was different when it was because Roy's health concerned, that he himself had caused, was the reason he wasn't about to go. It was different because Hughes was okay with going under false pretenses. Roy felt that Hughes was almost not allowed to have an opinion on Lior now. Hughes would probably push his feelings aside so he can go in Roy's place, and if Roy thought about it, Hughes maybe even stood up for Roy's decision not to go.

Oh...

He hoped that wasn't true. He really hoped that wasn't true. To even think about Hughes saying something about Roy choosing not to go and the Furher looking at Hughes like he was crazy could make Roy himself go crazy.

"Okay," Roy rasped. "I understand. I should go...I have to be up early..."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

Roy rose to his feet and his knees instantly buckled. Gracia put her arms out and grabbed Roy.

"Are you sure you're alright, Roy? You look pale."

"Yes, I'm alright." Roy grabbed her hands and moved them off her. He was uncomfortable with someone touching him. "Really, I'm fine."

Gracia stood up and Roy could tell she wanted to put her hands on him again, to keep him steady. She looked up at him with worry all over her face.

"Roy, I think you should sit down for a bit. Let me get you some water."

"No, I'm—"

"Please, Roy. Just sit."

Begrudgingly, Roy obeyed, putting Hughes' clothes and shoes on his lap. Gracia disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with a glass of water. She handed it to Roy and sat next to him.

"Thanks," said Roy after taking a sip.

They were quiet as Roy sipped on his water. He was antsy to just finish it and leave.

"You've lost some weight, Roy," Gracia said suddenly.

"What?" Roy quickly turned his head to look at Gracia. "Not since I saw you last...or, I mean—"

"Is there something wrong, Roy?" she asked. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just stressed is all."

It was just too easy to lie. It was beginning to make Roy feel sick.

"About Hughes?"

"Just about...I don't know...everything..."

Gracia leaned her head to the side, "What, everything?"

"Mmm...I..."

"It's okay, Roy. You can tell me."

Roy set the glass of water on the coffee table and put his head in his hands. There was no way Gracia was onto him. That wasn't possible. There was no way.

"I don't know," said Roy, his voice muffled by his hands. "It's nothing. Really."

Gracia put her hand on Roy's back. He wanted to shake it off, so badly.

"Well, Roy, whatever it is, you can tell me. You know I'm always here for you."

Roy stayed quiet.

"Maybe you should go," Gracia continued. "Get some rest. You want me to pick up Hughes tomorrow instead?"

"No, no." Roy rose again, making sure to keep himself steady. "I'll get him tomorrow."

"Okay," she said, standing up to walk Roy out of the house. "Thank you, Roy, and please...don't feel bad about any of this."

"I..." Roy looked down at Hughes's clothes and shoes in his hands. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Gracia parted him with a soft smile. For once it was nice to have someone understand he just didn't want to discuss things and was willing to just leave him alone. It was refreshing to not be pressed against the wall.

He turned on his heels and walked to his car, almost feeling like he was a robot. A robot on its way home to recharge for another day of keeping its secrets.

When Roy finally arrived home, he undressed and slipped right into bed. Even if had wanted to eat, he was too wiped to anyway. Although he was exhausted, Roy could only lay awake and stare at his ceiling.

Hughes had to know about Lior. He deserved to. Even if it meant losing him, Hughes had to know. There was no way Roy could even continue lying about it. He would eventually crumble or Hughes would eventually find out from someone else.

It felt like Roy was already on the brink of crumbling.

* * *

Roy hadn't remembered falling asleep, but he had woken up feeling refreshed for once. Soon after he had woken up, the lieutenant had called him and told him she'd be there in thirty minutes. Roy knew he was barely going to have time to exercise, shower, and drink his morning cup of coffee, but he still tried to squeeze it all in. When the lieutenant said thirty minutes, she meant thirty minutes.

She had come while he was still in the shower.

"Colonel! I said thirty minutes!"

"I know, Lieutenant!" yelled Roy from the shower. "I'll be right out."

When Roy stepped out of the shower, he went to put on his uniform and realized he had brought his old one into the bathroom with him. His new one was in his bedroom on his nightstand.

"Um, Lieutenant?" Roy asked from behind the door.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind getting my uniform? From my bedroom?"

"Not at all, sir."

He heard the lieutenant walk to his bedroom and then come back to the bathroom door. She went for the knob and opened the door slightly, and although Roy had a towel wrapped around his waist, he slammed the door shut again.

"Sir?"

"I'm, uh, indecent."

"No towel? Surely you have a towel in there, sir."

Roy only opened the door slightly and stuck his hand out. Laughing to herself, she put the uniform in his hand. It was still in its plastic, just as it was when the lieutenant had first brought it to him.

If the Lieutenant had seen him with nothing but a towel, surely she would say something, or think something and then not say it. Roy didn't even know which was worse. Roy thought she would definitely be worried. Roy knew the contradiction. He still wanted to maintain his low weight (preferably, if he was, to be honest, lose more weight), and yet the fact that Hawkeye would be worried at seeing him still didn't make him want to put on weight. Stupidly, he also thought perhaps she would notice the weight he had put back on. He dismissed the thought purely because of how daft the idea of someone being able to tell a four-pound weight gain on someone.

When he changed into it, he instantly realized just how fitted it was. The older uniforms were not so custom fit. It was simply was your pant size while the jacket came in small, medium, large, extra-large. Now, the whole uniform seemed custom fit, including the jacket and pants, that it was perfectly fitted to Roy's body. Before Roy walked out of the bathroom, he stripped his lower half, antsy to see the measurements.

Colonel Roy Mustang.

It hadn't had his measurements on it. Roy felt disappointed.

Roy thought again about how he needed to maintain his weight to fit in his uniform. He couldn't put on any weight because, well, then he couldn't wear his uniform. Roy supposed that even losing weight would also be tricky; it would be incredibly obvious now. Before his uniform had gotten loose, but for the most part it covered up his weight loss. Moreover, no one was looking before. Surely Hawkeye or Hughes (or the doctor, if Roy had seen him) would notice almost instantly if Roy were to lose weight.

Suddenly his uniform felt too tight and his bathroom felt too small. He felt trapped.

"Colonel?" Hawkeye raped on the door. "You alright in there? We really should get going, sir."

Roy swung open the door and wasn't surprised to see the lieutenant in the new uniform as well.

He grinned, "Ready."

Hawkeye looked up at Roy's hair. "Not gonna do anything to your hair?"

"Why start now?" Roy shrugged, "It'll be dry by the time I get there."

She hinted at a smile, "Sure, sir. Did you get a chance to eat anything?"

The question was simple enough, so Roy gave a simple one back.

"No, I only just woke up."

"And last night? Or did you just go right to bed?"

That wasn't as simple. He wasn't sure if he should admit to seeing Hughes last night, and he also wasn't sure of the possible harm in admitting it. Though, surely she'd find out once they got to the hospital today.

"No," said Roy honestly. "I saw Hughes last night and then was so tired when I came back I went straight to bed. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, sir, I understand. I actually figured you would probably do that." She gave a sort of sad smile. "Let's just get going, sir."

They made their way to the lieutenant's car after Roy grabbed Hughes' clothes and shoes. Roy tried to catch a glimpse of her face, wanting to see if she thought anything of what he had just told her that she didn't say. Maybe (hopefully) she hadn't thought anything too bad of it and wasn't suspicious of Roy. Though, if she was, Roy doubted that she would bring it up on their way to pick up Hughes.

The two got in the car and the lieutenant began driving. The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable, which Roy was thankful for.

"So, how long is it he going to be out again?" Hawkeye asked suddenly. Roy wasn't sure if she had ever asked in the first place.

"He said eight weeks," replied Roy.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to be home."

Roy glanced over at Hawkeye. "I'm sure he will."

If this was her way of trying to make me feel better, Roy thought, it's not working.

Edward floated into his mind. Then, he remembered he was agreed to lunch with Ed. Why had he done that? Why couldn't he have just said, "No, I'm busy." He kicked himself for not doing that. But, Roy knew that Ed was probably still feeling guilty about Hughes and Lior and Roy obviously empathized with that. He wanted to be there for Ed and wanted to get through to him that what happened in Lior wasn't his fault. If Roy revealed his feelings of guilt to Ed, Ed would try to do the same to Roy, which he'd rather not deal with.

Ed couldn't have wanted to talk about his weight. It was none of his business and not his place; Roy was sure he knew that well enough.

"I'm sorry for prying, sir," the Lieutenant said suddenly. "Last night, I mean. I should've just not brought anything up and let you forget about it."

"It's alright, Lieutenant."

"Well, I'm still sorry. I feel like I should've just let you have a time where you didn't think about it," said Hawkeye. "I feel bad."

"I understand, but...well, you were worried and I was...worried about Hughes."

Roy had lied about being worried. Not that he hadn't been, but he was lying to avoid eating when he told the lieutenant at the dinner table he was thinking about Hughes and it had worked.

The Lieutenant didn't reply. She stayed quiet. Roy peered over at Hawkeye to see what face she was making, which was useless. She barely ever moved her face when she didn't want to; her face never gave away any of her secrets. Unlike Roy.

The rest of the ride was quiet. When the two got to the hospital, they went straight to Hughes' room. He was sitting on the side of the bed and a nurse was at his bedside and they were talking quietly.

"Oh! Roy, Lieutenant, good morning."

"Good morning, sir."

"I brought you clothes," Roy said, extending his arms out to give them Hughes. "And shoes."

"Great. Thanks." Hughes turned to the nurse. "And thank you."

The nurse smiled at Hughes and excused herself. For some reason, Roy waited until she closed the door behind her to start talking.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm alright, but I'm starting to feel the pain in my leg now."

As Hughes said, Roy felt a pain in his chest. He regretted even asking.

"Well, let's let you get changed and be on our way," the lieutenant said. "Did you eat breakfast?"

"Hell, no. I wasn't going to when I was going to be home so soon. The food here is like stale cardboard."

"Wasn't aware cardboard could go stale," said Roy.

Hughes rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean!"

The three were then quiet. Roy and the lieutenant standing awkwardly looking at Hughes.

Hughes cleared his throat, "Well...I'm gonna need someone's help."

Roy and Hawkeye exchanged glances.

"I'll go get the nurse," said Hawkeye.

"No, don't. I'll just help him," Roy offered, feeling as if it would somehow absolve him of his guilt.

Roy noticed the nurse had left a wheelchair on the other side of the bed. He figured if they were only going a few feet to the bathroom, it'd be easier to let Hughes lean on to get there. Roy went to Hughes and helped him to his feet.

"You sure you got me, Roy?" he asked. "Let's just use the wheelchair."

"Don't be stupid. It's a few feet."

Feeling much like a jerk, Roy helped Hughes to the bathroom as Hughes clutched his clothes and shoes in his arm while the other was wrapped around Hughes' shoulder. He helped Hughes to sit on the toilet...or more accurately, dropped Hughes there. After giving an exasperated huff, Roy closed the door behind him and took the clothes back from Hughes.

"Alright, let's do the hard part first."

Roy crouched down helped ease Hughes' leg into one of the pant legs, thankful that Hughes' was wearing a gown so that Roy didn't have to ease the leg out of a pant leg first. He let Hughes do his uninjured leg himself, figuring if their roles were switched, Roy would wanna at least do something to help. After that, Hughes simply shimmied off his gown.

A small gasp came from Roy.

"I know, I know," said Hughes, holding out his hand for his shirt. Roy handed it to him. "But I'm alright."

There were bruises all over him. Roy wanted to look away but hadn't. It felt as if he had put them there himself, but...didn't he? Shouldn't he have those bruises on his body instead?

"Hughes, I'm...I'm sorry."

Hughes pulled the shirt over his head. Roy thought back to when they were getting measured and how he envied Hughes for not being self-conscious with his shirt off.

"Please, stop apologizing, Roy." Hughes looked up to Roy with a smile. "I get some time off now...at least there's that."

"At least there's that," Roy echoed, whispering.

"Alright. Let's get the hell out of here...finally..."

"You've been here a day."

"Right, but I haven't had my wife's cooking in two weeks."

Roy didn't reply to that. Instead, he simply lowered himself so that Hughes could stand up and lean on him. Once Roy had opened the door, the lieutenant was already there with the wheelchair. Again, Roy felt like he had dropped Hughes onto the seat.

"Okay, we're on our way," Hawkeye said, pushing Hughes. "Let's get you home, sir."

Roy trailed behind Hawkeye pushing Hughes. He felt bad for not pushing Hughes himself but thought it would be too awkward to start doing it now, as the lieutenant was already doing it. He felt that it was only another thing to feel bad about not doing.

Once they were to Hawkeye's car, Roy took over. He helped Hughes into the back of Hawkeye's car as Hawkeye folded the wheelchair once Hughes was out of it.

"Alright?"

Hughes nodded.

Roy tried to force a smile, "Okay. Good."

Hawkeye and Roy got into the car and Hawkeye began driving. Of course, Hughes hadn't allowed it to be a quiet ride, and of course, Roy hadn't minded.

"So, what's life been life without me?"

"Quiet, for once," said Roy. "Hard to imagine there's be so many days in a row your family photos weren't shoved in my face."

Hughes laughed loudly. "Too bad I don't have my things...Gracia took them yesterday after they dropped them off at the hospital. I'll just have to show you some photos when we get to my house."

"Or you can show me, you know, your actual family."

"Or that too."

The two bantered casually but the lieutenant was quiet. Roy allowed himself to feel comfortable while talking with Hughes. He thought it would ease his urge to suddenly blurt what he had lied about while also hopefully getting Hughes' mind off the pain from his leg. He glanced over at Hawkeye intermittently to see what was she was thinking; she had a small smile on her face.

When they had gotten to Hughes' house, Gracia had instantly jumped on Hughes, throwing her arms around him.

"Did she not just see him yesterday?" Hawkeye whispered to Roy.

Roy chuckled, "I know..."

"Thank you, Roy," Gracia grabbed Roy's hand. "Thank you so much."

"Ah...it's nothing..."

"Well, I made breakfast for all of us," Gracia said, leading them to the dining room. Hughes took over wheeling himself and wheeled himself to the table as Gracia moved a chair so he could sit at the table. Roy was uneasy about the wide spread of food that was on the table. "Let me go grab Elysia."

Hawkeye looked at her watch and Roy hoped she was going to excuse both of them.

"We have some time," she said with a smile, sitting down leaving one of the seats next to Hughes free.

"Oh..." Roy looked at his own watch. She was right. "Alright then."

Roy sat down next to Hughes, feeling like he was about to faint. There wasn't a way to get out of this. Plus, he'd have to wait until he was at headquarters to throw it back up. That was hoping that he had a chance to go...who knew what the lieutenant would try and talk to him about. Then, he'd have to go to lunch with Fullmetal, and then what? Throw it up at a restaurant!? Surely Edward would realize something was off when Roy came back from the bathroom.

He was going to have to cancel. He should've lied to the lieutenant this morning that he had eaten. Why hadn't he just done that? If only he had lied...

Hughes leaned over, "Roy? You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm okay."

"Don't tell me you're still feeling bad," said Hughes. "Come on, there's nothing to—"

"Daddy!"

Elysia ran into the room and there was that familiar pang of jealousy from Roy. She jumped onto Hughes, which Roy knew had to hurt, and Hughes planted a kiss on her cheek. Roy leaned over to look at Hawkeye, who again was just simply smiling.

Roy felt bad for not simply feeling pure joy at seeing Hughes be with Elysia again. All he was thinking about was the meal he had to eat, not even feeling guilty about lying to Hughes. Whenever there was anything to do with food, that always took up the most space in his mind and was always at the front. He was too consumed by his worries about food that it even was more present than his feelings about feeling guilty because it was all he was worried about.

Gracia came around and scooped up Elysia. She sat her down and then sat down herself. Roy watched as Hughes effortlessly served himself food and turned his head to see the lieutenant doing the same. Roy surprised himself with how jealous he was of such a simple action.

Although, part of him was always proud of his self-control. A deeper part of him was full of pride at the fact that he hadn't allowed himself to eat without care. He secretly thought of himself as better than Hughes or Hawkeye (or anyone else, for that matter) because he put so much thought into what and how little he ate. That being said, at least Hughes and Hawkeye didn't puke their food out from a fear of gaining weight. How pathetic.

Moreover, again (as always) these thoughts begged the question: was Roy in control of his eating habits, or were his eating habits in control of him?

Roy looked up from his empty plate and tried to decide what would be the least bad thing to eat. Maybe the eggs...at least it was protein. He'd really, really rather just not eat anything. What he would do for an excuse...

His eating habits were in control of him. He knew that. He wasn't sure when he lost control, but it had happened. He knew that, and he still didn't want to give up.

He kept his head down as he was eating, the conversation at the table sounding like a dull murmur.

"That's all you're going to have, Colonel?"

Roy didn't even want to look at Hawkeye. He didn't want to see what face she was making.

"I don't...feel well," he replied quietly, so Hughes wouldn't hear.

"I know, sir. I know you feel bad about Hughes, but please," Hawkeye spoke in a whisper. "Please eat something."

Maybe the lieutenant really thought that's why Roy wasn't eating much. Maybe she didn't and was just toying with him. He didn't know at this point. He lifted his head to see her grimacing.

"Just a little more, okay?" she said quietly, trying to smile. "For me?"

Roy hated being talked to like a child, but he would rather not get into an argument about it while he was at Hughes' house. So, instead, he simply nodded and put more food on his plate; a little bit more eggs and a bit of sausage. But! That was it. He wasn't going to be pushed into eating anymore.

He looked over at the lieutenant who simply gave him an approving nod, which hopefully meant that Roy was eating enough.

"I have to admit," Gracia started, "I'm excited to have Maes home."

"And I'm excited to be home," said Hughes. "Even if it's with a broken leg."

Hawkeye leaned over to look at Hughes. "Eight weeks, huh?"

"Something like that."

Roy wanted to ask more about Lior, but with Hughes' wife and daughter at the table, this clearly wasn't the time. Moreover, Roy hoped that Hughes had told him everything he needed to know about Lior. Though, he'd like to hear more than just what he needed to know.

"No coffee?" Gracia cocked her head at Roy, as she was pouring Hughes more.

"Uh..." Roy glanced at Hawkeye. "No, I'm alright."

Gracia was fine with that answer, but apparently, Hawkeye was not. She quirked her brow and then looked away from Roy. He almost got the urge to simply turn to and say, "What? What do you have to say about that?"

But, of course, she hadn't said anything.

Almost without thinking, Roy pushed his chair out. His plate was empty.

"Excuse me," he mumbled.

Robotically, Roy moved to the bathroom and instantly was on his knees. He didn't bother taking off his jacket like he usually did, just simply got onto his knees and stuck his hands down his throat. He threw up instantly, upchucking a huge rush of his breakfast. Shame almost set in, but before it could, Roy was throwing up again...and again...and again...and again...

Just one more time, Roy said to himself.

He threw up one more time. Then, one more time.

Finally, he considered himself finished. He let himself fall completely to the floor, exhausted and wiped. Shame and guilt settled in and Roy let his head fall. After years of restricting his food intake, Roy hadn't ever thought that this would be what he was doing. He had thought about throwing up but always, always dismissed the idea. Why had he even started doing this? To be able to keep his eating habits private?

Roy pulled himself up and washed his hands. He washed his face and rinsed his mouth with some water.

He knew that this wasn't going to go on forever. It felt like it would never end, but Roy knew it would. There wasn't any way that Roy was going to keep on doing this, even if no one ever caught him.

Right?

He couldn't even imagine confiding in anyone. Hughes or Hawkeye would have to see him throwing up for him to ever admit to doing something so shameful. What was he even supposed to say, "I started throwing up my food so you would think I was eating normally"?

Roy felt like he was almost on the brink of doing just that. He just wanted this whole charade over with. But, he didn't want to give this up. It was his way of control, and coping, he realized. If he didn't have this, what else did he have? Roy wondered what could have possibly on his mind before all this. What did he walk around thinking all day when he was younger? If it wasn't so sad, Roy would've found it amusing that he couldn't recall what he had used to think about.

When Roy came back to the table, Elysia was back on Hughes' lap—only on his uninjured leg, he noticed. Gracia and the lieutenant were sipping on their coffee and talking quietly.

"Isn't that exciting?" Hughes was saying.

"What's exciting?" Roy asked, sitting back down.

"That daddy's gonna be home for so long!"

Hughes looked to Elysia, then back to Roy. Roy smiled awkwardly.

"That is exciting," said Roy. "But now I won't have him with me at work."

"But you always have him!" whined Elysia. "He's at work all the time!"

"She's got you there, Roy. I am always at work."

Roy shrugged theatrically, "Fine. I guess you can have him."

Elysia laughed, so Roy allowed himself to laugh too. Hughes bounced Elysia on her leg, beaming down at her. Roy felt a familiar sense of jealousy from seeing Hughes with Elysia. He tried to suppress those feelings and just feel glad that Hughes was back home and that he was okay.

Still, Roy wanted to ask about Lior, but he'd have to save those questions for later.

"Well, this has been nice, and thank you," Hawkeye started, getting up from her seat. "but the colonel and I should get going."

"Yes...thank you," Roy echoed.

Gracia gave a soft smile, "And thank you for bringing Maes home."

"Yeah, thanks," Hughes added, looking up at Roy and Hawkeye.

Roy nodded and then motioned for the lieutenant to exit. Gracia walked them to the door and the two went to the lieutenant's car.

"That was nice," said Hawkeye. "Wish I could cook like that."

"I definitely can't. I think everything I make is just edible and that's about it."

Hawkeye laughed, "I don't think I'm that bad of a cook...I can't bake at all though."

"I don't even want to try."

The two shared a laugh and Roy felt bad for lying to her the whole time. She was so concerned, so worried, and he was constantly dismissing her. She had figured everything out (at least before he had started throwing up) and Roy made her think she was crazy for even thinking of the possibility. Hawkeye didn't even care about being right, she just wanted Roy to be taking care of himself.

"I'm going to lunch with Fullmetal today," said Roy, mostly to himself.

"Really?"

"When I went to see Hughes last night, he had been there, with Al, of course," Roy said. "but on my way out, he had asked me to lunch. How do you like that?"

Hawkeye smirked. "I like it, sir. Why do you think he asked? I thought he was allergic to being in a room with you."

It had caught Roy off-guard, so he laughed loudly.

"Well," Roy started, dropping his smile, "I think that he wants to talk about Lior, though."

"Oh. You're probably right, sir."

"He told Hughes about how he felt and seemed to feel better after that."

"Really?" The lieutenant asked. "I thought Edward would have a hard time not feeling guilty."

"Me too. That's why I said he seemed to feel better."

"Huh. You think he's lying, sir?"

"Maybe hiding how he feels," said Roy, "so Hughes doesn't worry or feel bad.

Hawkeye paused for a few moments.

"I think you do that too, sir."

"Hughes knows I feel," said Roy, a little too defensively. "I'm not hiding anything from him...or you, for that matter."

"I wasn't accusing you, sir. Just stating how similar you and Edward can be."

It always fascinated Roy how much the lieutenant changed how much she spoke from when she was playful with him to when she was trying to be serious. She always said "sir" here and there, but there was a certain manner of speaking that changed whenever she wanted to be taken completely seriously.

"Right..." said Roy dubiously. "Well, anyway, I was just letting you know...or just mentioning it to you."

"I know, sir."

Roy turned his head to take a look at the lieutenant. He knew she probably wasn't thinking about what she had just eaten because normal people didn't lament over a meal after it was said and done. Moreover, she was probably concerning herself with what he had eaten. Roy nervously thought that she was perhaps thinking about why he had gotten up when he was finished eating and used the bathroom. The more realistic part of Roy knew that she probably hadn't given a second thought. Or, she hadn't even given it thought in the first place.

After what felt like hours of dull silence, the two were at headquarters. The lieutenant had immediately gone to her desk and started on her paperwork while Roy grabbed a cup of coffee. He couldn't help but again think of the comment Hawkeye made about how he takes his coffee, but he was just so tired and knew he'd surely get a headache without it.

As Roy sat at his desk with his coffee and pretended to look like he was doing paperwork, he thought about Fullmetal. Was he really going to call and cancel on him? He'd almost rather not, for the lieutenant would surely ask: "what happened to lunch with Edward?" and Roy would have to make some lame excuse for why he was no longer going.

It was already bad enough throwing up in Hughes' house. Roy would prefer if he could just get through the day without eating anything. he supposed that it hadn't mattered if he went to lunch with Ed, either way, he was eating another meal today. He has been eating two meals, throwing up one, sure, but eating two. He could just...not eat dinner when he got home.

Roy wasn't sure why, but the days where he didn't eat dinner felt unsatisfying. It felt like just a tiring day overall. It was like even if his day was rough, or even if he didn't eat lunch (intentional or not), he could at least go home and have dinner. Like a normal person.

He wasn't going to cancel on Ed. He would go, eat something light, and that would be it. Roy knew that Ed needed him as well. If he canceled lunch, it felt like he was dismissing Ed's feelings or leaving him to dry.

All Roy knew for sure was that it was all a matter of when his true disordered habits were exposed. It wasn't an if. The same thing went for lying to Hughes about Lior. Everything was going to come to the surface and Roy almost hoped it was soon because it was starting to feel like he was constantly drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and sorry for any mistakes! I'll try and get another chapter out by the end of the year : )
> 
> Next chapter will be about his eating disorder VERY HEAVILY, so be aware of that while reading please.


	10. Restricted

Hughes had occupied Roy's mind for most of the morning. Since he had already decided that he wasn't going to cancel on Edward, Hughes was the only thing he was worried about. He knew that a huge part of Hughes must truly be happy to be at home, and be able to stay home for longer than he ever had. Roy didn't allow himself to feel good about Hughes being able to be home; it almost felt like dismissing how bad it was that he lied to Hughes about Lior.

He knew he had to be honest. The guilt of lying would either eat him up inside to the point where he would be forced to sever his relationship with Hughes to ease the guilt—what was most likely going to happen if Roy didn't admit anything himself—or Hughes would find out the truth from someplace or someone else. Both options made Roy uneasy, but at least with the former, Roy could _try_ and maintain his and Hughes' relationship. With the latter, it was up to Hughes whether the two stayed friends or whether the two stayed close. Roy supposed even if he was the one to tell Hughes he was lying, that was still true; it was Hughes' choice. That being true, Hughes was more likely to react better if he found out from Roy himself.

Roy wondered if Ed was going to come down to HQ when it was time for lunch. Probably. He then wondered what Ed made of his weight-loss. Surely Roy purposefully losing weight was probably the last thing he would possibly think. There was at least that. Someone who would only be concerned about him—as annoying as that was...—and wasn't suspicious of him. Unlike the lieutenant.

The lieutenant was suspicious of him still most likely. What was exactly on her mind, Roy couldn't be sure. He wasn't losing weight, he was maintaining it. Plus, the lieutenant had seen him eating more; even if he was throwing it up afterward. Once she was suspicious of that, _if_ she was suspicious of that, Roy was done for. There would be no way of squirming out of that once Hawkeye got it into her head.

"Sir?"

Roy looked up to see Hawkeye at his desk with her coat over her forearm.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I have a meeting to attend, sir. I should be back in the early afternoon."

"A meeting?" Roy rose a brow. "With who?"

"It's private, sir."

Roy looked up at Hawkeye dubiously. He didn't know if she was lying, but he knew there was something he wasn't privy to, obviously. If she was only keeping to herself because it really was private...that was different she would come around to tell Roy eventually. If she was omitting things because it was going to be about Roy...

"Alright," he said. "I'll see you, then."

She nodded and turned away from his desk. Roy watched as she exited the office. The meeting wasn't about him. That's was stupid to think. Never mind, entirely self-centered. He was going to drive himself crazy if he didn't stop jumping to conclusions. He pushed the lieutenant out of his mind. If her "meeting" was about him, surely he'd up finding out sooner or later.

* * *

Hawkeye left the office and slipped on her coat. She made her way swiftly to her car and hopped in. She gave herself a moment to think before starting her car.

She wanted to go to Hughes' house. She wanted to talk to Hughes about the colonel's feelings towards Lior and see what he made of them. Surely he'd agree with her, that the colonel was being ridiculous about feeling guilty. Unless Hughes was harboring a bit of resentment towards the colonel, which Hawkeye would find hard to believe but it wasn't totally impossible. She supposed she too might feel a little badly towards the person who should've gone in the first place if she was in Hughes' spot. Then again, this was Hughes and the colonel, not just any two people. Most of Hughes' military career was and is being spent on pushing the colonel up, much like her own military career.

After a brief moment to think, Hawkeye started her car and started driving to Hughes' house. She didn't want to disturb him and his family, but she had to talk about the colonel's feelings and her worries about him to someone and surely it wasn't going to be the colonel himself.

When she arrived at Hughes', she felt the urge to simply drive away and go back to HQ. She shouldn't be discussing the colonel behind his back, if he found out, he would lose it. There was nothing he hated more than people talking behind his back about him instead of just being direct. He didn't care about rumors or anything frivolous like that, but he cared if people were discussing things they should've been discussed directly with him.

"Oh, Lieutenant..." Gracia said when she opened the door. "Did you leave something?"

"I have to talk to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes for a minute, is that alright?"

"Of course," she said. "He's right in the living room. Go ahead."

"Thank you," Hawkeye said quietly, slipping past her.

Hughes was sitting on the couch, Elysia on his uninjured leg. Hughes was leaning over, his face right in his daughter's face. She cleared her throat.

"Oh, Lieutenant!" Hughes looked up with a grin. "What're you doing back here?"

"I'm...I need to discuss something with you."

"Oh." Hughes sighed. He picked up Elysia and stood her up. "Listen, baby, why don't you go see what mommy's doing, huh?"

Elysia gave a hum of enthusiasm and ran off. Hughes motioned for Hawkeye to sit on the chair that was opposite him.

"I think I can already guess what...or who is going to be the topic of discussion," said Hughes. "What's on your mind exactly, Lieutenant?"

Hawkeye wasn't sure how to bring up the topic. She wanted, of course, to discuss the colonel's feelings towards Hughes' injuries in Lior, but there was something else she also wanted to talk about. It was threatening to bubble up in her throat and come out.

"Well, I'm sure you know how the colonel blames himself for your injury," she said.

"Of course. Why wouldn't Roy blame himself for something that's not his fault?"

"Have you discussed it with him? Told him you don't believe it's his fault?"

"Obviously, I have. He doesn't believe me, though. Surprise, surprise."

"Mmm," the lieutenant hummed—if only to keep herself from blurting something else out. "What exactly happened in Lior anyway, sir?"

"Roy didn't tell you?"

Hawkeye shook her head.

"Well, there was...a bomb, or smoke bomb, something like that."

"A smoke bomb broke your leg?"

Hughes laughed, "No, let me finish. I couldn't see anything and suddenly I felt a huge weight on my leg."

"And then what?" she asked. "You were just stuck?"

"Well, I..." Hughes trailed off.

"Yes, sir?"

"I blacked out."

Then the two went silent. The air was awkward and thick and Hawkeye regretted coming. Hughes was already well aware of the colonel's feelings about Hughes' injuries; there was no need to discuss it. She really wanted to discuss other feelings of the colonel's.

"I wish Roy wouldn't feel so guilty," said Hughes. "It really isn't his fault."

"I can understand why he feels that way. It would've been him there."

"Right, but it wasn't him." Hughes sat back. "I swear, Roy can be so stupid sometimes."

"I have to agree, sir. The colonel does tend to needlessly place guilt onto himself."

It almost seemed as if Hughes was going to respond, but he hadn't. Hawkeye stayed quiet for a few moments in case he was going to say something, but still, he hadn't. She cleared her throat.

"What did the fuhrer want to talk to you about?" she asked.

"In the hospital?"

She nodded.

"Uh..." Hughes smiled sheepishly. "I wanted to talk to Roy about that..."

Her brows went up. "Was it about him?"

"Not necessarily...well, no, it wasn't, but..."

Hughes trailed off, moving his gaze away from Hawkeye.

"But what, sir?"

Part of her didn't want to come off as too anxious to hear, but another part, a larger part, didn't care. She felt a little desperate to hear, as she usually was when it came to anything concerning the colonel.

"This is a little uncomfortable to ask," started Hughes. Hawkeye unconsciously leaned forward, closer to Hughes. "But can I trust you not to tell Roy what I'm going to tell you?"

Instantly Hawkeye sat up. She couldn't help but stare daftly at Hughes.

Why wouldn't she be able to tell the colonel? She wanted to ask, but what if pressing Hughes too much made him go, "nevermind, Lieutenant, it's nothing"? She wanted to hear what the Fuhrer told Hughes, but in exchange for not being able to tell the colonel? Hawkeye wasn't sure she wanted to keep a secret from him...especially when she was trying her best to encourage him to be more open with her.

"Sir?"

"I'll tell him myself, I promise. I want him to hear from me, not anyone else."

"Okay," she rasped finally. "I won't tell him."

Almost as if he was trying to keep the suspense up, Hughes shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. His hand went to his injured leg, rubbing it soothingly.

"Well, when Fuhrer Bradley came into my room, he wanted to discuss Lior."

I could've guessed that, thought Hawkeye, but she kept it to herself and simply nodded.

"He asked about this and that," Hughes continued, waving his hand as if to appear casual. "Then, he asked how I got injured and so on."

"And so on..." Hawkeye echoed in hopes to nudge Hughes to get to the point already.

"And well...he wants to promote me," Hughes admitted quietly.

"What?"

"To Brigadier General."

Hawkeye tried to mask her surprise, but it was to no avail. She gave a small, involuntary gasp. She of course wasn't ignorant to the arrangement that the colonel and Hughes had seemed to work out; Hughes was to stay ranked closely below the colonel and push him to the top from there. The plan wasn't to be a rank above the colonel and somehow pull him up. Perhaps that would work, actually. Although, she wasn't going to say that Hughes, nor the colonel once he inevitably came ranting to her about it—hopefully.

"Oh..." was all that passed through her lips.

"I know." Hughes frowned, "He'll be so disappointed it wasn't him."

"Right. What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure. I'll probably just tell Roy that it was only because I was the highest-ranking person there...and maybe because I got injured, and not because of some fault of his own."

"I wasn't asking about what you're going to do about the colonel," she said. "I'm asking about what you're going to do about the promotion."

Again, Hughes shifted.

"Take it?" Hawkeye supplied, exasperated. "You're gonna take it?"

"I don't know." Hughes sighed, "I'm not sure if I even have a choice..."

Hawkeye was at a loss for words. She wanted to rush back to HQ and tell the colonel; she was already feeling bad that she knew before the colonel did. She couldn't help but put her hand up to his lips and chew on her thumbnail softly.

"Maybe in some way, it'll make him feel better about Lior...maybe he won't feel so guilty anymore."

"Perhaps," Hawkeye mumbled absentmindedly.

She could already see how the colonel was going to react. As much as she admired and respected him, she knew he could sometimes be a jealous person. Even though Hughes was his closest friend, surely the colonel would have trouble feigning to only be happy for him and nothing else. If Hawkeye was expecting that from the colonel, it most likely meant that Hughes was most likely expecting something similar.

Hawkeye finally pulled her hand away from her mouth but ended up putting it right back. There was still something else she wanted to discuss with Hughes...

"Sir," she said, putting her hands together on her lap. "I actually wanted to speak with you about something else."

"I can tell. What is it? Roy, still?"

She nodded.

"Alright," he said. "What's up?"

Now it was Hawkeye's turn to shift uncomfortably and stall. She wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Again. It already seemed the first time she had brought up the colonel's eating habits that Hughes didn't exact;y agree with her entirely. Even when she followed up with him, he _still_ didn't seem to believe her.

She was wrong; all wrong, all this time. The colonel had even told her that and admitted what the problem was. Still, though, she couldn't shake that was on the right track. If she was and believed the colonel (and Hughes) that his disordered eating wasn't on purpose, then turned out to be right...she would never forgive herself for dismissing her original theory.

The colonel's eating habits were still weird (at least this morning they still were), and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

"Is it about what we've discussed before, Lieutenant?" Hughes asked after Hawkeye's silence.

She nodded again.

Hughes sighed heavily and leaned forward. "I'm really not sure why you think what you do. Roy told me he's busy, and I'm willing to believe him."

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"No...? Why? What did he say to you?"

"A little while ago," started Hawkeye. "He told me he was depressed."

Hughes frowned. "He hadn't mentioned that to me, but it doesn't surprise me."

Hawkeye could understand how Hughes was feeling. It hurt to have a person you cared deeply about hiding something from you.

"It doesn't surprise me either," said Hawkeye. "But I'm...I don't even know how to say this..."

"You don't believe it?" asked Hughes.

"It's not that...well..." Hawkeye put her head down. "I think it's an excuse. I think he's lying about why he's not eating right still."

With a soft grunt, Hughes moved closer to the lieutenant. He lifted himself off the couch and tried his best to crouch next to her chair by keeping his injured leg straight...considering the cast, he didn't really have a choice. Hughes put a hand on her back and rubbed softly.

"Hawkeye, can I be honest with you?"

Hawkeye lifted her head slightly to look down at Hughes. "Of course..."

"Could it be you're only holding onto this because...you think you know Roy better than you actually do?"

"But...what?"

"You wanted to be right because being wrong meant he was hiding something from you and you couldn't figure it out."

Hawkeye put her head down again. Could that really be true? Could she just...want to be right?

"I...I don't know, sir."

"I know Roy very well too, and I—well, I don't know if I agree with your worries." Hughes tried his best to smile, "I like to think what I think of Roy is also of some importance."

"It is! It is, but..." she trailed off. "If I'm wrong and we let the colonel just continue what he had been doing..."

"Well, either way, he won't continue what he had been doing," said Hughes. "We both want him to start taking care of himself better, right"

She nodded.

"So we work on that, and not work on making him more secretive."

Hawkeye almost felt like she was squirming. She wanted to continue to argue her point, but Hughes was right. Maybe. Maybe she only wanted to be right about the colonel, because her being wrong meant she didn't know him as well as she wanted to think. Either way, the colonel had hidden something from her. She really hadn't liked that. But, if she was right, that meant the colonel was _still_ hiding something from her, and that worried her.

"Hawkeye? You understand what I'm saying?"

"Yessir."

"If Roy made me...suspicious of his eating habits, I would've confronted him about it. I promise you, if Roy were to do anything that concerned me, I'll come to you about it, okay?" Hughes pulled himself up with a groan and leaned down a little. "I don't want to tell you to drop it because I understand you're worried, but don't let it eat you up. Understand?"

"Yessir," she said again.

"Do you?" Hughes asked softly. "Do you understand why I'm saying that?"

"Yes, because I was wrong about the colonel...but I think you're trying to spare my feelings."

"Not necessarily, Lieutenant. You're so worried about cornering Roy and getting him to confess something to you, you almost forgot the issue at hand: him. You're becoming more concerned with being right about him more than fixing what's wrong."

"I..." Hawkeye looked up at Hughes, blinking. "You're right."

"Relax, Hawkeye. Things will work themselves out. Either way, whether you or I am right, but if you only focus on one possibility, you close yourself off to anything else that could be happening."

"Right. You're right, sir."

"Of course I'm right."

Hughes stood up straight and Hawkeye eyed his cast.

"Where's your wheelchair, sir?"

"In the other room," he said. "I don't need it."

"Are you sure?" Hawkeye asked dubiously. "Your leg is injured pretty badly isn't it?"

"It's in a cast!" Hughes cried. "I think crutches will suffice."

Sometimes Hughes and the colonel could be similar, Hawkeye thought. She supposed it was only normal for men to have pride, even after an injury.

Hughes sat back down on the couch, almost falling onto it. He grinned. Hawkeye thought he looked exasperated.

"Why don't you go get Gracia to make us some coffee?"

* * *

Roy glanced at his watch over and over again. He thought the lieutenant would be back by now. She had been gone for over an hour now. Surely a meeting couldn't take that long, right? Not one Roy would be clueless about.

He was also checking his watch to count down how long he had until lunch with Edward. He felt himself grow more and more uneasy as the afternoon grew closer. Ed hadn't told him a time, and in a way, that made Roy more nervous but he wasn't sure why.

Ed needed him right now, Roy knew that. Roy knew Ed most likely wanted to talk about Lior and Hughes and see what Roy knew about either of them. He couldn't simply dismiss Edward (or his feelings) and cancel lunch, but oh, was it tempting...Roy simply wanted the whole ordeal to be over with and done already. He didn't need his eating habits under yet another watchful, scrutinizing pair of eyes.

Roy could only hope that would be so preoccupied with his own problems that he wouldn't pay what Roy was eating (or wasn't eating...) any mind.

Almost as if Ed knew Roy was thinking of him, he burst into Roy's office suddenly.

"Fullmetal!" Havoc shouted before Roy could. "How've you been? No Alphonse?"

Roy hadn't realized that Alphonse wouldn't be joining them until now. He supposed he already knew that, though.

"Nah...and eh, I'm alright."

"Whatcha been up to?"

"This and that," Ed replied vaguely.

"How's that blonde of yours?"

Ed rose a brow, "Winry? She's...alright. She's not mine, though. Quit saying that."

"Sure...keep saying that", said Havoc, laughing.

Havoc ducked his head back into his paperwork and Ed rolled his eyes. Fuery, Falman, and Breda all just gave a simple wave hello, to which Ed nodded back to. He came up to Roy's desk.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"You tell me," said Roy. "After all, _you_ asked _me_ to lunch, didn't you?"

"But you live here, I don't! You know all the good spots."

"You're certainly here enough." Roy looked Ed up and down. "Always coming and pestering me."

"Believe me, Colonel. I wouldn't be down here so much if I didn't have to be."

Roy didn't bother mentioning again how Ed was the one who asked Roy to lunch and that certainly his last statement wasn't true. He looked up at Ed and narrowed his eyes.

"Let me grab my coat."

So, Roy grabbed his coat and he and Ed walked out to his car. Listlessly, he wondered if Ed would ever learn how to drive or if he would simply walk or take the train everywhere he needed to be.

"You've lost a lot of weight, Colonel."

Hadn't Gracia said that to him only last night? What was with everyone's sudden need to point it out?

"Don't be stupid, Ed. You saw me a couple of weeks ago. I look the same."

"No, before that. I just never mentioned it."

"I believe you did," mumbled Roy irritably. "You told me I look awful. Not to mention only last night you told me I looked worse for wear."

Edward scoffed. "I was joking. Kinda."

The two were quiet. Roy wasn't interested in continuing this conversation. If Ed wanted to continue talking about it, he was going to have to speak up himself; Roy wasn't going to dispense answers to questions he wasn't asked.

Roy felt a full sense of unease in his belly. He got a similar feeling when Gracia had mentioned his weight loss, or the doctor had, or Hughes had...or anyone had. When he had first started losing weight, he always took the mention of his weight loss as a compliment and nothing but. Then again, the people saying it usually _were_ complimenting him. Roy hadn't started losing weight because he felt fat, but people complimenting his initial weight loss surely made it feel that way. He supposed he did look more trim and muscular when he had first started to lose weight. Now he just looked haggard and tired all the time, he was well aware of that.

Now every time someone mentioned it, Roy cringed and wanted to end the conversation quickly. Hearing about his weight loss went from an incredible sense of flattery to a muted sense of it, and now it almost felt like an insult.

"So," Edward continued. "What's going on with you?"

"I don't have to answer to you," Roy spat. "Nothing is going on with me."

"Oh, sure, that's why you're getting so defensive about it."

Roy winced. Wrong move. Good going, Roy, he thought to himself. Being snide and biting with Ed wasn't the best hand to play; Ed always had the trump card when it came to that game.

"All I'm saying is that it is nothing you need to be concerned with. I'm not getting defensive about it."

"You kinda are."

"Am not! I am—" Roy cut himself off. "I'm not doing this, Fullmetal. Let's just drop it."

Edward hadn't said anything to that. He hadn't even so much as nodded or shrugged.

Roy knew he had gotten defensive. It was the same as when the lieutenant had first confronted him in the hallway several weeks ago. Getting defensive about his weight loss, or even getting too dismissive about it, was only going to suffice to make everyone more suspicious than they already might be. A normal person would respond, "I know but..." and offer some time of explanation.

But normal people didn't do what Roy was doing.

Roy pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant he knew well. He already knew there were multiple things on the menu that he wouldn't feel too guilty about eating.

"You are paying, aren't you?" said Ed as he slid into the booth. "Surely you wouldn't make me, a teenager, pay for lunch?"

"You already owe me money, what's another lunch on top of it?"

Ed smiled his so often sardonic smile and looked down at the menu. Roy looked down at his menu as well, but he already knew what he was getting. A waitress came to their table before Roy could try and start a conversation.

"I'll have the t-bone steak and cola," said Edward, grinning, holding his menu for the waitress to take back. "Thanks."

"And I'll have spinach salad," said Roy, somewhat embarrassed. "A water, please."

Ed watched the waitress as she left, then leaned forward.

"That's all you're getting? Surprise, surprise."

"Cram it, Fullmetal. I don't need you making comments on my diet, I'm an adult."

"Then why don't you eat like one?"

Roy grit his teeth, his face darkening. Had it he been wrong about Ed's reasons for lunch? Was it just so he could hound Roy about his eating habits?

"Edward," Roy said slowly. "I'm telling you, quit it."

"Fine. There's something else I wanted to talk to you about anyway."

"Mmm. Alright."

Although Roy knew he could guess what the next topic of conversation was going to be about, he decided to let Ed bring it up himself. He half-expected Ed's disposition to change before talking about Lior. He at least expected for his shoulders to slouch, but they hadn't. He kept that same stupid look on his face.

"What happened in Lior?" he asked. "To Hughes, for real."

"What did he tell you happened?" asked Roy.

"What did he tell you?" Ed replied instantly.

"The smoke bomb, that he fainted...but I'm sure you already knew that."

"Yeah..." Edward trailed off mindlessly, his mouth hanging open. Roy hated when he did that. "I knew that."

"So, what? Did he tell you something different?"

"No, he didn't."

Roy's brow shot up. "Okay, so what? You thought he was lying to you?"

Ed averted his gaze momentarily. He opened his mouth but suddenly the waitress came back with their drinks.

"Thanks."

"Thank you."

She gave a small smile before leaving. Edward again watched as she left.

"She looks like Winry a little, doesn't she?" teased Roy.

"Winry's prettier than her," Ed said. Then, realizing it, blushed slightly. "I mean...whatever. Back to what we were talking about."

"I asked if you thought Hughes was lying to you," said Roy. "Do you?"

Ed sighed, "I couldn't help but get the feeling that he was..."

Roy frowned, mostly because he had also felt that way. He even asked Hughes, hadn't he? And Hughes had said no. He wasn't sure if he should admit to Ed that he also initially felt as though Hughes was lying. If Roy was completely sure that Hughes wasn't lying, he would simply tell Ed that he thought Hughes was lying at first but now he didn't think so. That had been true up until now. Hearing Ed having the same doubts Roy initially had solidified them.

"I got that feeling too," admitted Roy quietly. "Like there's something he wasn't telling me."

"Me too. It's not so much that I think he's lying as much as—"

"Omitting something?"

"Yeah, that's it." Ed's deflated. "But I don't have a clue as to what he would hide from me...or you, especially."

Roy gave a nod of understanding. Hughes would only lie about how bad his injuries, or perhaps if Private Zell was injured. Though, he had no reason to lie to Ed about Private Zell. Then again, Ed wouldn't ask about him. Both he and Ed had seen Hughes themselves, so there really wasn't any lying about his injuries, and surely he would know that if he were to lie about Private Zell that Roy would found out eventually.

Knowing people would find out is seldom a reason not to lie, Roy thought sullenly. After all, he lied knowing that most likely everything was going to come back and bite him in the rear-end—even if he didn't know when that would be.

"Huh," gave Roy.

"What, huh?" Ed sat up. "What is it?"

"He never told me what it was like there," said Roy. "How the riots were going, or how the people of Lior were taking to a military presence there."

"Now that you mention it..." said Ed. "He hadn't told me either."

"Is that why it feels like he's lying?" whispered Roy, mostly to himself.

"I don't know..."

The two sat there, thinking to themselves and not saying anything to each other. They had only raised their heads when the waitress came back with their food.

Unlike Roy, Ed began eating almost instantly. Roy could only look down at his plate, debating whether or not he would throw this meal up. He wanted to decide now, so he could know how much to eat. To think that Ed would be suspicious of Roy using the bathroom after his meal would be insane, so that wasn't a problem. Although, seeing Roy's face when he came back afterward would certainly make Ed notice something, so that _was_ a problem.

It was only a salad, after all, but Roy had eaten more at breakfast than he had wanted to. Even if he did throw it up, he wasn't sure how comfortable he was with eating another one.

Roy got an unsettling urge to cry. He was tired of this. It was so exhausting to constantly be worried about what food he was eating. He felt like an absolute child when he could feel the tightness in his throat that came before a sob. Moreover, he felt like a dolt. He knew he was tired of this. He knew that he was going to get found out sooner or later, so why didn't he just confess? Not even! Why didn't he just stop doing this?

He couldn't stop. He needed this. Roy hadn't had another coping mechanism.

"It's not poisoned," said Ed. "Probably."

Roy looked up at him, "What?"

"You can eat it. You don't have to stare at it."

"I know that! It's...ah, forget it."

Ed hadn't resumed eating. He was waiting for Roy to begin, so he did slowly.

"He probably just doesn't want you feeling bad," said Roy, pausing eating but not putting his fork down. Doing that only emphasized he wasn't eating. "That's why he didn't tell you."

"What about you?" asked Ed. "Why wouldn't he tell you?"

Roy cleared his throat and shifted uneasily. He was only going to divulge to Ed to make him less concerned with his eating habits.

"I feel...responsible for him being there," Roy said. "He knows that."

Ed cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"I told you, I turned it down, so that's why he's there in my place."

"Oh...that's right..."

Roy moved his fork around his plate to make it seem as though he was going to take a bite. He raised it to his mouth but lowered it.

"That tells me things maybe aren't going the best down there," said Roy. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"Because I know you feel responsible as well, Edward," Roy said. "Even if you want Hughes to believe otherwise."

"Well, wouldn't you? If you were me?"

Roy scanned Ed's face. He knew he would also feel guilty if he were in Ed's shoes, but saying that would do nothing but validate how Ed felt, which Roy wasn't aiming to do. Instead, Roy steered his answer in a different direction.

"Listen, Ed, I already told you and Hughes already told you, you wouldn't change what you did there." Roy put his fork down for a moment and leaned with his elbows on the table. "What you did was good. You couldn't have predicted the outcome. Would you rather Father Cornello still be misleading those people?"

"No," said Ed quietly. "I wouldn't."

"That's what I thought, so stop feeling guilty about it."

Roy picked up his fork again and took a bite this time. He then tried to make it look like there was less on his plate than there actually was.

"Why didn't you go, Colonel?"

"Because I don't think we should have a military presence there," Roy dispensed. Even if he was lying about making the choice of whether or not to go to Lior, at least he wasn't lying about the reason technically. "I didn't want to do something I'd regret. Hughes didn't seem to agree."

Doing something he regretted seemed to be the root of all his problems. Roy could never shake the nagging feeling that his time in Ishval and his eating habits were intertwined.

"Well, would you have gone and done something you'd regret then?" Ed pressed. "Why do you still feel guilty about it?"

"Well, I—Of course, I wouldn't want to do something I'd regret," said Roy. "But that doesn't mean I want Hughes to either."

"You said yourself he doesn't agree. There's no need to feel guilty about him getting hurt. It's stupid to; it had nothing to do with you."

"But it should've been me," Roy blurted. "I should've been there."

"You weren't. He was. He didn't have a problem going," Ed said. "Geez, it's like you want to feel guilty or something."

If Roy had been telling the truth, Ed's bluntness would've actually made him feel better. That was the weird thing with Ed. His blunt mouth could often sting, but when it was being used to comfort, it helped actually. At least for Roy, it did; it meant he wasn't being jerked around or just being told what he wanted to hear.

Roy forced a laugh. "You might be right, Fullmetal."

"Of course I am." Ed finished his cola. "Anyway, I'm done. Finish up so we can get the hell out of here."

"I'm done," said Roy. "Just let me go pay and we can leave."

"Done?" Ed laughed, barking almost. "You took two bites!"

Roy felt his whole body tense up. He tried desperately to control his face but knew he must be frowning.

"I'm done, Edward. Don't argue with me."

Ed sat back. He started to inspect his nails.

"Oh, what? Cat got your tongue?"

Roy knew he shouldn't be pushing Ed, but the brat made it so hard not to. He knew all the right ways to get under Roy's skin.

"I'm waiting for you to finish." He pulled out his pocketwatch and clicked it open. "I've got the time."

"I don't. Let's go."

Ed shrugged.

"What the hell is your problem?" Roy muttered. "What's with you?"

"What's with you?" Ed parroted. "Just finish your food and stop freaking out over it."

"I am not—" Roy cut himself with a strangled noise of frustration. "I'm not in the mood for this."

"Okay, fine. We'll leave."

Roy couldn't decipher why, but there was something almost...threatening in Ed's tone. It felt as if he was saying, "Okay, fine. Don't finish, but you're only confirming what I'm already thinking."

"I'm not in the mood for this," Roy said again. "Quit it."

"Aren't you hungry, Colonel?" Ed leaned forward, his hands sprawled on the table. "You look starved."

"Enough, Elric. Watch yourself."

Roy was practically growling at Ed. He couldn't help it. He couldn't stand being talked down to or being talked to like he was stupid, and that's what it felt like Ed was doing. He felt like he was talking to Roy like he wasn't smart enough to climb out of the hole Ed was digging him in.

"Why are we sitting here arguing?" Ed asked. "Why aren't we out of here already?"

"You tell me."

"I thought you said you didn't have the time, so let's leave. Why are you still sitting here instead of paying?"

"Because I—" Roy cut himself off, not knowing how to end the sentence. Maybe he wasn't smart enough to climb out of this hole, but he better think of a way soon or he'd be buried alive. "Because I don't want you to think you're pulling something over me. I'm not hungry, so what?"

"I just find that hard to believe is all," Ed said with feigned casualness, shrugging. "I would think you'd be hungry."

"Why?"

"Because you clearly haven't been eating. If I wasn't eating, I'd sure hungry."

"Elric, I told you already. Watch yourself. Stop saying things like that. You have no idea what's going on."

"Ah...what's going on? So there is something, then?"

Roy kicked himself. Arguing with Ed could be like playing chess with someone who is three moves ahead of you. He had to either shut up or get smart. He could always finish, but something about that was unpleasant, and it wasn't necessarily the eating part. He didn't want t to be ordered around, but it was beginning to feel like he didn't have a choice.

"If I finish it, you'll quit bothering me? Because you're seriously starting to piss me off."

Ed shrugged.

Roy couldn't imagine much situations worse than the one he was currently in; his back against the wall like this and being stared down while he ate. At least he had ordered a salad.

He didn't even pay Ed so much as a glance. Ed could've been looking away and Roy would be none the wiser. He hadn't wanted to see what expression was smeared all over Ed's cocky face. He knew Ed must have been watching him, and most likely watching him closely. Roy couldn't decide if he should it quickly or slowly, so he kept alternating between both.

Even though it still seemed far-fetched for Ed to be suspicious of Roy using the bathroom afterward, Roy wasn't going to. It still felt too risky, because there always that lingering "what if?"

"Alright there," Roy said, finally looking up. "Can we go now?"

"No dessert?" asked Ed. "I thought I saw some good-looking ones in the display when we were walking in."

"No, Elric. I'm finished."

"I'm going to get something then," Ed said. "If you don't mind."

"Why would I?"

Ed craned his neck to find the waitress and then motioned for her to come to the table.

"Can I have a big slice of the apple pie, please?"

"Of course, sir." She turned to Roy. "And for you?"

"I'm all set."

"Alright then. I'll be right back with your slice."

"Thanks," said Ed. "She's nice."

Roy couldn't help himself.

"What are you trying to do here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ed said. "I'm not doing anything. Can't a guy get a slice of pie?"

"I'm right here, sir."

The waitress was already back at the table holding Ed's slice of pie. She put it down, gave a nervous smile, and slipped away.

"I think you just scared her," Roy said. "Nice going."

"Oh, please."

Ed began to eat his slice of pie as Roy could only watch on. He had to keep his leg from bouncing. So badly Roy wanted to excuse himself and run to the bathroom. He knew he could always do it back at the office, but who knew how long Ed was going to be or what he was hiding up his sleeve.

"It's good," he mumbled. "You don't want any?"

"No."

"Winry's pie was good too. Too bad you couldn't have any."

"Too bad."

Roy didn't like this game. He wanted to leave already. He didn't want to sit here and watch Ed after being coerced into finishing his lunch. Suddenly, it felt like he was back in his bathroom this morning—his uniform feeling too tight. He felt hot and stifled, and he wanted to leave if only to catch some fresh air.

Whatever it was Ed was thinking, Roy was already debating begging him to keep it to himself. Ed's pressing was ten times worse than the lieutenant's, even if most likely Ed knew less than the lieutenant. Roy thought of when the lieutenant and himself were at his house and she asked him if she should lose weight. She wanted him to break and confess, and that's exactly what Ed was doing to Roy now. Something told Roy that if he were to break and confess to Ed—as if!—that Ed would be shocked at what Roy would say.

Ed didn't know a thing, That wasn't possible. Roy was overthinking.

Overthinking or not, Ed's pressing was getting unbearable.

Ed finished his slice and licked his lips theatrically. "Too bad you didn't have any. Your loss."

"Can we go now or do you want to waste more of my time?'

"No, I think I'm all done."

Roy rolled his eyes and pulled himself to his feet. He went to the counter, paid, and Ed followed him outside.

So much for a nice lunch.

Once the two were in the car, Ed couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"I could've eaten that salad and still finished my steak," he was saying. "I mean, come on? What are you, a rabbit?"

He went on and on but just kept his lips pressed tightly together. It wasn't until Ed had mentioned Hawkeye that Roy had had enough.

"I have a hard time believing that the lieutenant would let you eat that little," Ed had said and it was enough to make Roy burst.

"I told you to watch yourself, Elric!" Roy gave a quick glance towards Ed. "Do not make me repeat myself."

"I was only—"

"You were only getting on my damn nerves," grumbled Roy. "The lieutenant doesn't have control over what I eat. Do not bring her up again."

"You're not mad about that," said Ed after a short pause. "You don't care if I bring her up or not."

Roy could only give an exasperated, "What?"

"You're just mad I noticed."

"Noticed what, Elric? That I lost weight? Everyone has noticed it, you're not special."

"Mmm."

"Mmm, what? Speak!"

"Maybe I misspoke," Ed said. "You're mad I noticed and didn't let you get away with it."

This was bad. Ed was up to something and Roy had to end it. Something told him the excuse he gave Hawkeye and the doctor wasn't going to cut it. Ed was looking for something else.

He couldn't know. If Hughes hadn't known, then Ed couldn't either.

Who's to say Hughes didn't know? He _had_ mentioned Roy's weight loss. Hughes was just better at keeping things to himself until he had enough evidence to confront someone. Surely the two hadn't talked about Roy...

"I'm not even going to pretend to know what you're talking about," Roy mumbled.

"I think you do...Colonel, what's making you lose weight?"

"I'm—I'm busy."

"Not too busy to waste our time back there," Ed remarked. "And that doesn't really explain why you got a salad."

Roy paused. He had to stop speaking without thinking.

"Colonel?" Ed said. His voice was softer and it took Roy back. He asked again, "What's making you lose weight?"

"Nothing's 'making' me, Elric. What are you driving at?"

"Pull over."

"What? No."

"Pull over, please."

At his soft tone, Roy pulled over. He put his car in park and turned to Ed.

"What?"

"You're not..."

Roy tensed. This was it. It was the same thing Hawkeye had done when she mentioned him having an eating disorder, or how stupid she was for thinking it. Ed was going to do the same thing: blurt something out and catch Roy's brief panicked expression.

"Sick, are you?"

"Wha...what?"

"Is there something wrong with you that you're not telling me about?"

Roy could almost burst out laughing. Ed didn't have a clue. Of course, he didn't.

"Like what, Fullmetal? You think I have some kind of disease?"

"Just answer the question."

"No, there's nothing wrong with me." Roy paused, "I told you I'm busy, and I'm stressed about Hughes. I don't have much of an appetite these days."

"Have you thought that maybe you're...never mind."

"I'm what?"

"Depressed?" Ed asked.

"I...I have thought about that..."

Ed frowned. "Why don't you talk to someone?"

Roy opened his mouth to reply, then closed it quickly.

"What made you think what you pulled back there would be any help?" Roy asked. "What the hell was all that?"

"It worked, didn't it? You're spilling to me now."

He wasn't going to deny that. To do so would be to tell Ed he was wrong and that Roy was lying.

"I suppose so," Roy said. "Don't pull something like that again."

"You're so closed off! What am I supposed to do?"

"Pry like a normal person," mumbled Roy. "Don't force food down my throat."

"Sorry..." Ed rubbed the back of his neck. "Good thing you're not sick or I would've been a real ass."

"You _are_ a real ass."

Ed laughed and Roy bit back a frown. He was tired of lying to people, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Alright, alright. Drop me back off at my hotel."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"But seriously, Colonel. Talk to someone, like the lieutenant, or some a professional, or something."

"Are you bossing me around?"

"Damn right. Now take me to my hotel."

* * *

"I should be getting back," Hawkeye said after a brief glance at her watch. "The colonel is probably wondering where I am."

"He'd be lost without you," Hughes said.

Hawkeye gave a small smile and rose to her feet. She took Hughes' empty mug from him and brought hers and his to the kitchen and placed them in the sink. She went back to Hughes.

"Tell Gracia I said good-bye," she said. "And take care of yourself."

"I will. You do the same, and remember what I said."

She nodded and turned to leave the room. She slipped out of Hughes' house and went to her car.

It hurt to hear Hughes say what he did, but that was most likely because it was true. She couldn't admit that she had been wrong about the colonel. Plus, even if she was right, obsessing over how to corner him wasn't going to do anything productive. Things will work themselves out, as Hughes said. trying to somehow get the colonel to break was only going to make him more secretive and closed off whether or not it was about what Hawkeye originally thought it was about.

Plus, the colonel had been eating better. She had no real reason to keep onto her original theory.

As long as the colonel continued to eat better and take better care of himself, she hadn't had anything to worry about it. She was going to let her guard down, still. The fear of what would happen if she had been right and simply backed off the colonel was too intense to let her guard down. That being said, she was going to give the colonel his space.

If the colonel did have issues with eating, Hawkeye hoped he knew that he would be able to come to her about them. Forcing a confession out of him wouldn't be comfortable for either of them. Moreover, that wouldn't necessarily mean that the colonel wanted to open up to her; being forced to would most likely make him bitter towards her.

She could keep her eyes on him while maintaining a distance, but after a while, if the colonel didn't prove to be avoiding eating, it was going to be time to drop her original theory once and for all.

Her biggest issue right now was Hughes' promotion and not telling the colonel about it. She didn't like keeping things from him, but she had already told Hughes that wouldn't, and she wasn't going to break that trust. The colonel would learn from Hughes himself soon enough, she hoped.

* * *

Dropping off Ed had been a huge relief, even if he had gotten Ed off his back without breaking and telling the truth. He was itching to get back to the office so he'd be able to get rid of his lunch and relax. Even if he didn't get it all back up, it was alright. Roy was just glad to have avoided revealing himself to Ed.

He might a straight b-line to the bathroom once he got to HQ. Fortunately, there was no one in there so Roy could get rid of his lunch in peace. He threw up until his chest hurt. Clutching his chest with his still saliva-soaked hand, Roy fell back onto the stall door. He let himself drop to the ground.

Throwing up took so much out of him each time. He was exhausted.

Roy stood up rather quickly, afraid someone might come in suddenly. He flushed the toilet, left the stall, cleaned up, and then finally left the bathroom.

Hawkeye was at her desk when Roy entered the office. She was actually the only one in the office.

"How was lunch with Edward, sir?"

"Interesting," Roy replied, putting his coat up on the rack. "And your meeting?"

"I can't say the same."

Roy laughed and sat down at his desk. He had so much work to do...

"Is there something you're hiding from me, Lieutenant?" Roy asked suddenly.

"What?" Hawkeye looked up quickly from her paperwork. "What would make you think that, sir?"

"I just find it odd you had a private meeting."

Hawkeye put her head down. "If you must know, sir..."

"I'd like to."

She rose her head and looked at Roy. Sometimes it felt like their desks were so far from each other.

"It was about my performance," she said. "Apparently, my paperwork is not up to the usual caliber. It wasn't private. I was...embarrassed."

"Oh." Roy rose a brow. "Why would you be embarrassed about that?"

"I didn't want you to think less of me, sir."

"You couldn't do anything that would make me think less of you."

Hawkeye smiled softly and ducked her head. Roy thought she might be blushing.

"So, that's it? It was about your paperwork?"

"Yessir."

"And it was that long?"

"I wasn't the only one they were reprimanding, sir."

"Oh, oh."

Roy felt a weird sense of guilt, feeling as if Hawkeye was somehow taking the fall for him. He knew she was probably distracted, worrying about him, and that was why her performance wasn't up to par. It had been his fault, probably. Hawkeye worked so diligently, and it was all for him, always for him. He felt a small smile creep onto his face. Roy couldn't ask for better subordinates than what he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Another one! Even though I said I'd try before the end of the year, but it's here now anyway. Sorry if there are mistakes and such (as usual), I finished this at 2 am. I'll probably go back and fix them later anyways.


End file.
